In Ronin's Clothing
by CrimsonCherryScarlet
Summary: The War was over but that was by no means the end of Katakura Kojuro's duty.
1. Chapter 1

The demand at the bottom of the pile of correspondence was the last piece of paper Saki dealt with as part of the morning work. While war and troop movement were no longer the focus the routine wasn't that different. Reports, requests, problems, solutions. And the ability to share the workload because most of what was being done did not need to be kept secret. Usually with her, Masamune, Kojuro and Wakasa crowding the shelf-walled room the work flowed smoothly. With her Dragon away in Kyushu there were a few documents that were given a brief read and placed to the side. And with Kojuro shirking office duty that day in favour of harvesting he was also getting a dedicated pile. Wakasa, thin and scholarly, working fast and smiling as if he actually enjoyed the bureaucracy verified each pile and appraised if some of the documents could not be dealt with by him. More often than not the answer was yes and they only waited the signature of someone in charge. Depending on the request's weight and area it was then provided.

Something about the phrasing was off. Saki frowned, catching the oddity while distilling the basics of the request, paper unfolded in front of her, the precise lettering and words not looking any different than hundreds before it. Yet... when put together, when compared with other letters of the same nature…

As Saki reread, guided by instinct, she stopped the colourful temari as it flew by her arm, the bells inside rattling. Kazuya halted his wobbly toddling after the toy, laughing, flopping on his padded bottom, reaching for it with small hands.

"Wakasa can you call Katakura-dono please?" She asked softly.

Wakasa looked up, blinking, refocusing before nodding and retreating, tousling Kazuya's hair on the way out, his hand gripped by the child playfully, leaving ink stains on his little fingers.

Gently she tossed the toy back, watching as Kazuya caught it. His reflexes seemed good and the grip was steady even if he was still a very bad thrower. But that was age-related. Training had barely started as well. at least the one related to his shinobi heritage. It would not be too harsh, as that was not his path but a future ruler with a mild poison resistance and abilities to be sneaky and flexible seemed a good plan.

Kojuro didn't take long to appear, wearing casual clothes, already dirt-stained. He still enjoyed the routine of agriculture and his little vegetable patch. It was still a way to be close to the people and know what was truly needed. Good decisions were made on what could be found out in the fields. He made an habit of doing that visit to crops and farmers when accompanying Date or working as an emissary.

Wakasa didn't return. Most likely he believed whatever needed to be discussed needed to be private first. He would be right if Kojuro noticed or felt as she did after reading the request. It was not often she called on anyone that way either.

"Anything wrong?" He asked directly, pulling away the fabric around his head, seating heavily, grunting with relief, smiling at Kazuya's attempt to say his name, taking a moment to play with the child. His toss was very gentle, unfit for his arm. Saki shook her head a bit, amused. Kojuro still held the «too young» belief even though he tended to lecture the child when he was up to some mischief. Of course the kind of training that would turn a boy into a samurai was tailored for an older child so Saki said nothing of it.

"Read this and tell me what you see." The shinobi asked after he settled. Kazuya sat down, little chubby legs kicking the tatami and tossed the ball to the air, staring up, following as it fell, trying to catch it without leaving his spot. Excited giggling followed each toss.

It took a moment as Kojuro focused and turned his mind to serious paperwork.

"It seems fairly ordinary and yet..." Bandit troubles after a weather disaster were common. Food shortage, isolated villages, difficult access, frightened people… the unscrupulous and greedy would not hesitate to profiteer out of such a scenario. But the way he was describing the attacks, the thefts, who had been stolen from, where the attacks had taken place... something was off. Details were either too controlled or sketchy making it difficult, if not impossible to correctly measure the forces of what would be an enemy and how much of their own resources and men should be used to answer. It was too carefully constructed even for a formal request. And comparisons with three other letters Saki had spread on the table only seemed to highlight that discrepancy.

"Hikawa Sojiro. Small rural province lord. Recently inherited the title from his uncle." Saki smiled a bit, happy that she was not the only one seeing it even if Kojuro had no previous knowledge to generate suspicion other than being asked to read. She stood up, straightening her kimono and was selecting documents and reports from the shelves, organizing them by relevance.

"Hikawa Kinshiro was the one who signed the peace agreements." The surname brought memories. He recalled the old man always followed by a younger warrior. True to his memory the signature was there, a bit shaky but unmistakable.

"Sojiro was the one present in most of the negotiations." Saki nodded, encouraging, returning with another armful of papers. "And he slowly ascended from a simple samurai to a lord's heir in the war. As I'm finding out through a series of events that at first sight were unrelated, banal even. Their blood relation was tenuous but through deeds and convenience it created a much greater claim."

"You suspect something more?" Foul play at best. Treason at worst. Kojuro considered. It was enough cause for alarm, true.

"After this... yes." Saki answered. Digging through the archives in those few moments, as Kojuro read and pondered had provided enough support to her sudden suspicions of past misdeeds. But they also needed to focus on the present.

Kazuya fell on his bottom when he tried to chase the jingling temari and his eyes watered, lips trembling in the start of a cry. Kojuro turned, ready to go to the boy's aid. The kunoichi shook her head, looking calm, tapping the Right Eye's thing, instilling tranquillity. The child looked from one to the other, seeing no sign of alarm. And he decided a sore bum was not worth making a fuss, sniffing away the weepy look, turning and crawling to the temari, bottom waggling. He was still faster that way.

"Coincidences should not happen too often." She continued as the tantrum threat passed.

"I see..." Kojuro settled. "Are you sending aid?"

"I need to see who this man truly is and if the bandits are thugs or more." Saki sighed. "Would you mind masquerading as a ronin and investigating for me?" This Sojiro could be a threat or he could just be minor corruption. He could be just a good lord in suspicious circumstances that were actually harmless twists of fate. But nevertheless they had to be sure.

Masamune was away so Saki had to be present and seen in Oshu.

The Saica were spread throughout the coast.

The army was spread throughout the land.

Sending the shinobi would be done but they would not provide all the information they needed to make the best decision.

Sending any of the powers they controlled against the bandits would be seen as support. Sending them for an investigation would generate complaints and rumours.

Sending a ronin seeking to prove himself and gain a new lord was neither full support nor threat nor suspicious.

Sojiro would be happy for the backup and perceived trust on his own retainer's prowess and Saki could stall the decisions until Kojuro found whatever was truly happening.


	2. Chapter 2

A figure of renown and prominence like the Right Eye of the Dragon could not vanish from view without some suspicion and worry following. It would not be out of line fear such an occurrence. And of course some doubts could be created. It would be most bothersome to constantly think of excuses and covers while he was away, not to mention that any abnormally, any mistake, any inconsistency in the accounts could trigger suspicion in their target and jeopardize the whole plan.

Katakura Kojuro left Oshu to meet Date in Kyushu. A crafted story to displace any suspicion or questions. Simple, plausible and supported by sightings, reports and rumours. He had indeed left Oshu the next morning with a couple of guards and equipped for the long journey.

Hikawa Sojiro had been assured that he had their attention and Saki would be sending help in the form of a ronin whose master had died without an heir and whose retainers had scattered, joining whichever faction suited their beliefs at the time. Ryoma had fought for the One-Eyed Dragon for a long time and while he had not joined them he was still loyal and trustworthy. They needed to see how much of a threat those bandits truly were before deciding what forces to send. It seemed fairly reasonable.

* * *

"I question the men's training now." Kojuro stated, disgruntled as he was left alone with Saki, straightening from his respectful bow, resisting the impulse of slicking his hair back. She chuckled into her sleeve, examining him, having an easier time to keep to her role.

Appearances were not as defining as Kojuro had though.

Kiko had joined him in a hidden yashiki, barely three hours away from the city, instructing him in being Ryoma. Allowing his look to grow unkempt was the first part of the change, a beard masking the distinct scar and overall shape of his jaw line and tousled hair obscuring his forehead and shadowing his eyes, changing the first impression of his face. Keeping his hands away from the tresses was a struggle at first, being used to keeping it away from his eyes. Plainer, looser clothes and a slight posture change further hid who he was. The daisho distinctive characteristics were obscured. It was a precaution but he felt they would not check the weapons too closely. A hoarser voice, created by smoke completed the disguise along with an effort to be blunter, harsher in diction. There was little that could be done about being left handed but that was not as rare a trait as it sounded.

He had returned on a different horse, suitably equipped and loaded for someone of his assumed position, and showed Saki's summons as if he truly was who he was stating to be. And the men that had fought alongside him, that had been trained by him, women that saw him daily, did not notice a thing.

Ryoma was allowed through the gates and guided to the formal meeting room without doubts, without questioning, without those that should protect Saki and the child ever noticing him. Almost. The shinobi looked a bit too amused by the whole scene playing in front of them. Of course knowing Saki was able of defending herself and the others proficiently could have influenced the man's attitude and alertness as well. Any would-be threat that had forgotten that there were two dragons in that nest would be not-so-gently reminded.

"Why not feel proud of your skill and effort Ryoma?" Saki eased the discontent, behaving as if he truly was a ronin with loose, almost mercenary, links to Oshu. Kojuro lowered his head in a small nod. If he had been able to fool those that were familiar with him deceiving those who knew him only through faint memories and hear-tell would be simpler. It was somehow encouraging. "Thank you for coming on such a short notice." She continued the masquerade easily, testing the disguise and his reactions as she gave him the updated details.

* * *

The journey took three days by horse. It was uneventful. Gathering hearsay at the teahouses gave Kojuro little. Rumours and opinions. Nothing solid. Nothing new. Entering the province showed him more. Common people looked haggard but were unafraid of a stranger on the road whether their paths were simply crossing or they were working on the fields flanking the path. The richer on the other hand seemed to grow wary, prodding armed guards into alertness if they happened to cross.

The misplaced victims.

Bandits would want wealth, true, but a band usually preyed on the weak instead, on the vulnerable. Farmers, artisans, traveling merchants… And food was always profitable and much sought after. If it could not be sold it would still keep the group fed. But these attacked solely and directly were those who had wealth, titles and the land lord's trust. Bandits would only be so brazen if they had strength. Or a goal.

Suspicion. Distrust. The guards were on edge. They were also very young-looking, as if newly recruited. And that could mean fast tempers and unchecked pride.

Kojuro dismounted and approached slowly and deliberately, guiding the beast by the reins, mindful of his posture. A nod was enough greeting before showing the letter.

"I'm Ryoma. Date Saki sent me to deal with your bandits." Short, curt, to the point.

They should already have received the message so his arrival was not a surprise.

But the following string of events confirmed the Hikawa household was very much on alert.

One guard left with the papers, glaring at the ronin, the gates unlocking from within, opening just enough to let him squeeze though, closing and locking down once more.

The other guard stayed and stared, still very much full of distrust. Every time the horse twitched or its hooves struck the ground as it shuffled the grip on his weapons tightened. Kojuro simply stood and patted the animal from time to time, glancing around, patient. The area around the household walls was cleaned, giving a clear view and an easy path for patrollers.

An hour passed. Four groups of two guards made their rounds.

Someone of slightly higher rank came, the gates opening a bit more, the guard accompanying him. The captain carried the letters, asking questions, verifying the answers and the man. Yet another that looked too young to hold the rank he was claiming.

Kojuro was allowed in to take care of his horse as he waited for an audience.

After crossing the now opened gate four guards on the inside to back up the two on the outside worked with the locks, securing at least three sets and nine bolts.

Another guard joined them partway, letting the captain go fulfil whatever obligation he had to continue the process of letting the new arrival greet the lord he had been sent to serve. The soldier was watching the stranger in the stables while Kojuro worked on taking off saddles and bags, watering, feeding and brushing the horse. At least it was a sign that he was not being turned away to wait for tomorrow in the village down the path.

Yet another hour passed before two guards came to fetch him, relieving the other man from duty. Having nothing to do Kojuro had sat down without asking a thing. The man also had not spoken a word. But what he could see outside were the normal activities of a household even if the soldier presence was a bit too strong for peaceful times.

And more time went by as they waited on the meeting room, kneeling formally, facing the wooden platform where the lord would appear. Only twitching kept his legs from growing numb. His discomfort would also be true for the guards that waited behind him, keeping an eye on the daisho resting on the tatami at his side.

Night was falling.

The room was dark and the guards were still there.

Testing his endurance and patience seemed a reasonable measure but it showed a level of alertness that was concerning.

It placed the suspicion in his mind that the bandits' goals were very much political and personal. Also made him somewhat wary for his own deceit. If found there was little they could do against him but reputations could be damaged.

A man named Maki Benkei entered when the lights were finally lit by a couple of silent servants hurrying to fulfil their duty. He wore richer clothes, slightly older than the others he had seen so far and introduced himself as a trusted advisor, carrying the letter and seals. Another test. A stare-down and the same questions, repeated over and over again.

While bothersome it was helping cement who Kojuro had to be. Voice and tone came easily.

No doubt seemed to take hold.

Ryoma was left with the assurance that he was now able to meet Hikawa Sojiro.

Kojuro waited, ignoring the hunger that was starting to peek through his control. It was part of the mission. All that served a purpose. Attempting to discourage impostors for one, making sure the lowly newcomer knew his place as well.


	3. Chapter 3

Hikawa Sojiro did deign to make his appearance after his meal. The sounds of the small banquet reached the room, muffled. The lord, his advisors and higher ranking retainers. Eight, maybe twelve people could be heard, loud, rambunctious, bragging, enjoying what they had with little concern, secure behind walls and soldiers.

The guards were changed twice, allowed to go have their meal and rest.

Only then was the Lord announced, appearing from behind the painted screens, taking his place and staring Kojuro down for a long silent moment, examining the man carefully. Calculating, deliberate. Memory did not seem to help Sojiro in the least in seeing beyond the scruffy dour look helped by actually bad mood, sore muscles and some hunger.

The province lord assured Ryoma that he was honoured by the opportunity given by Date Saki. He then proceeded to pretend that his obligations and duties had been the sole reason for the delays along with the need for security.

While actually grateful he did do every possible thing to show himself as hierarchically superior.

True or not that was how he wanted to be seen. Someone in charge, someone influential, someone whose orders were never defied, someone able to dictate how other should behave.

Sojiro was about Kojuro's age. He looked slightly worn, haggard underneath the look of absolute confidence. Dark eyes, thick brows and imposing-looking. That had not changed much although Kojuro remembered those traits being a bit more controlled, more subdued, shaped into the calm image of the model heir, following Kinshiro, listening to the negotiations, asking the questions he needed from both his master and the people around.

But that mask was cracking now.

Saki had seen it in the request. Kojuro was seeing it right before his eyes.

Comparing his memory with the man in front of him was proving very informative. And he was sure it was information Hikawa Sojiro did not want to have exposed.

Despite the guards and all the assurances all the security checks the ronin in front of him had to go through in his hand still sneaked pats at the katana on his hip.

A short meeting, reinforcing the story that had already been used. It did not falter, change or grow. But it kept emphasising the threat, a threat to his power, to the stability of the province, to its prosperity, hinting that if it grew it could challenge Date's rule, the need for a crushing force. Kojuro listened, betraying no opinion. That attitude seemed the right one to take as Sojiro became calmer.

After saying what he needed he offered all the formal niceties the situation requested and called one of the guards to guide him to the barracks where he had his own room prepared. A meal was offered. Free movement on the household and province was extended. No guard was assigned to keep him in check.

Overall he behaved as if Ryoma was an honoured guest and an ally. Hikawa Sojiro was trying to use Ryoma to gain the One-Eyed Dragon's support. And he seemed to need or want it desperately.

Tomorrow he would join in the patrols but first he had to write and send a report…

How those volumes had reached Kojuro's room in-between bathing and eating was not a mystery of who had sent it but it was an oddity how no one had noticed an infiltration amidst all that security.

Saki had gathered family records, timelines, events and how they had advanced Sojiro's position until he reached his current position one year ago. It seemed the banditry had started years before that, after Hikawa Sion's death along with his wife and offspring, in a fire that was officially stated to be the result of an earthquake. And she was not convinced in the least. Neither was he after leafing through the pages in the candlelight.

* * *

"A ronin?" Yumi murmured, testing the words carefully, as the rumours that circled through the province reached their new camp deep within the northern woods, the title reaching her ears, perking Yumi's interest. It brought a small smile to her usually stern expression as she stood and crossed the tent, walking into the chilly autumn air, glancing around, finding the group that exchanged the recent gossip with the people and the household servants, approaching.

So their interference and constant chipping away at his resources and allies had finally become too much for the usurper to handle alone in his usual underhanded and cautious way. He had chosen to chance requesting the One-Eyed Dragon's support, breaking away from his old pattern. Cautious and calculating as he was that was a big indication that his power was reaching fraying point, that he could no longer conceal the internal struggle and most likely he would not be able to prevent them from reaching out, from requesting aid themselves.

Instead of the desired blind trust and offering of a small army or the Saica to suppress the threat Sojiro had no doubt painted to treacherous levels of menace the Ruler had sent a single envoy, one man to see what was the true extent of Sojiro's need and the nature of the bandits. It could be perceived trust of distrust. As Yumi pieced together the fragments of conversation there was a small hope growing in her mind that it could be the latter.

A break in the stalemate in the tug-of-war.

Perhaps the new arrival, unallied, untouched by the politics that had tangled the province in Sojiro's control, would be willing to listen, to tear away years of deceit and manipulation. And then to make their voices heard to the One-Eyed Dragon, to set things right. Maybe they could finally attempt contacting and trusting.

Older men, samurai, warriors and soldiers tested in the wars.

Men and women loyal to Hikawa Kinshiro and his son Hikawa Sion.

And now loyal to Yumi.

Those were the bandits Sojiro feared. The one who had realized how he had reached his position. Who he had killed and how. The ones trying to set things right once more. They all had known the truth or found out about it shortly before seeking her and the bandits she lead, abandoning their ranks in favour of rebellion.

"Report." Yumi asked softly. The banter stopped as the men turned to her, nodding in greeting. A tall, slender woman in plain warrior's clothes, brown hair lightened by the same sun that had darkened her skin that commanded their respect for who she was and what she had started, who she had become.


	4. Chapter 4

Their plans would not, could not, change for an outsider.

If anything the raid had to be made even more blatant.

They had been planning to remove that pillar of support for a while now, when their actions could not be perceived or reported as war crimes, and if a bold action could show the Usurper's true colours to the One-Eye Dragon's envoy it would be worth the risk.

Yumi pulled the reins gently, the horse moving on the edge of the hillside at a slow pace, under the shade of the trees, observing the fortified household of Maki Benkei carefully, searching for any minute detail, any difference that could help or hinder. It was the last scouting action that she could allow before the forces that protected the house became suspicious.

Patrols and defences seemed unchanged.

Riders with spears on the outside, going about the roads and the fields, to the trees where she stood, always keeping the house in their line of sight. If someone slipped by them and engaged in combat with the next line thy were a short ride away from helping. Yumi had been avoiding them by following in-between two patrols. It just took care and timing to keep it up. And heading deeper into the woods if the other horses approached too much, just to make sure they would not notice or follow. Silent and careful. It was unlikely that they would look down and count the hoof prints on the soft dirt.

Armoured warriors hugged the high stone walls surrounding the house. Their movement pattern was designed to make the most of the men and the space, keeping vigilant eyes all around the walls at ground level and above them on a thin walkway. But they tended to concentrate near the gates.

There were no towers and no archers. That made a raid easier in the approach stage. Less worrying about casualties from a distance. But obviously Maki had not made that decision for their benefit but for his wallet's sake. Arrows wasted easily and numbers crunches at the end they costed more than blades and guns were even more expensive. Even if they made their own projectiles and bows it would still eat into the patrolling time. And Maki Benkei was not feeling safe unless he saw a guard passing by his line of sight every few minutes. With time to be idle in-between attacks Yumi's men had taken the chance to make ammunitions from whatever they could shape into an arrow or a projectile. Some might be unable to go through armour but any time bought by a dazed defender was precious.

Finally there was the elite, a group of eight samurai that always surrounded the man. To say that they had survived the war was little to make them better. In the end so had the bandits, the soldiers, the farmers that had taken up weapons. Elite also did not mean unbeatable but they had some reputation. And anyone fighting to reach the advisor would not be fresh or uninjured after crossing and struggling through the warriors.

There were also rumours about traps within the household and the yards but the servants that were on their side and a handful of captured guards had been unable to provide either evidence or plans.

Yumi turned the horse around, returning to the camp.

The advisor would believe that he had done enough, paid enough to be safe.

* * *

What was most vulnerable or what was more meaningful… Kojuro pondered as he guided his horse through the province, the main roads first, scouting, finding no signs of bandit activity. What he saw was making more sense if he stopped believe in the legitimacy of the current lord. And with his arrival shifting the balance he was sure they would act very soon and in one of those variables would be the one struck.

It boiled down to supporters or supplies.

And the Right Eye of the Dragon suspected that these bandits would be more keen on striking down a person of the wrong alignment than going after something that threatened the people. The commoners were clearly more partial to their bandits than their lord.

And in their pinpoint striking of people crucial to Sojiro's support system and lack of collateral damage to those that depended on the land Kojuro suspected that the threat had been trained to be samurai.

Crossing that belief with the list of people that had fallen to the wayside in Hikawa's ascension and it made for at least six families and their retainers along with the remnants of the main Hikawa branch. If his experience with Oda told him anything was that a fire could not kill an entire army. Stragglers would always make it out.

* * *

"Equip and be ready." Yumi called out as she reached the camp, dismounting. Someone took the reins from her, taking the horse to their enclosure, to be prepared for battle. "We will depart before dusk to use the guard's meal time to our advantage." It should half the forces they had to deal with. Steeling herself she continued to walk, barely glancing around, heading for her tent.

Around the cloth walls activity mounted.

Messengers were being dispatched, horses readied.

Armours, both complete, old sets with family ties and formed from scavenged, stolen pieces were being donned. Weapons were gathered and distributed, bundled to carry.

Yumi dropped the simple clothes that permitted her to wander about fairly unnoticed, picking up leather and metal, sewn together in an armour, clasping them into place, making sure the vitals were protected and her movements were not impeded in any way. Some patches had been gifts. Some held memories. Shattered heirlooms. She pulled her hair into a tight bun, carefully slicking it back so no strand escaped to obscure her line of sight, a hood covering her head.

The Nagamaki was picked up next on gloved hands, its weight and length no longer baffling or strange, having become truly her weapon, the Hikawa crests broken on the sheath, ignored as blade and wrapping were thoroughly checked before Yumi left the tent.

The camp was quickly being dismantled by those who were already equipped, the extra supplies sent to yet another camp that would not participate in the raid. More joined the effort as the preparations of arming and armouring were done.

The last scion of the main Hikawa bloodline looked around, making sure everything was proceeding as it should. Capture or kill Maki and whoever else of importance he had invited for a diner of bribery and adulation. Either would do.

If the ronin interfered they had orders to capture him with as little harm as possible.

The men seemed eager, the new arrival giving them renewed hope, a new idea of purpose.

They exchanged shouts with commands, advice or taunts throughout the camp.

It was not new.

They had trained her.

They trusted her as a representation of what they fought for, as a vessel of their knowledge and skills, as an equal, fit to lead.

And Yumi would not falter as long as she had life in her.


	5. Chapter 5

Mist was helping in keeping the group's movements shrouded as they rode towards Maki's household. It was growing colder, humid. But it did not matter. Maybe it could even help. Cold made guards less attentive, more prone to gather in clusters for warmth around the vigil fires, to be sloppy in their patrols in the haste to return to a sheltered area. To add to their planned times it seemed perfect.

The horses' pace had been reduced to a slow, careful march the closer they gotten to their target. They gathered on the hill, under the trees, standing close to each other. Best to remain unseen until the time came. Until all the warriors were in their place. Archers started to set up, readying bows and arrows. The same humidity could hamper their range but hopefully it would not be crippling.

Yumi pulled the reins, making the animal halt, breath puffing in pale white clouds, looking around, touching the nagamaki's long hilt, gloves creaking, the metal plates sewn in them moving smoothly.

They had a few minutes before the next mounted patrol reached that point. Spear wielders of their own were already forming a defensive wall around the archers to fend off those men from whichever direction they came from.

The bulk of their forces were behind her.

Fleeting flares flashed to their left and right. The secondary camps had sent their warriors as well. It was not exactly necessary but they had insisted in making the show of force and support. She had agreed as long as they fled if things turned too grim. There would be no point in all dying and leaving the crimes unpunished. Those warriors waited to deter the guards that could come from the garrisons close by. And to give warning should they come too fast or breach through.

The sun was down. That was plain and clear.

The target was within. Both the reports and the lights they could see from the hill confirmed it.

Yumi's horse began to move, spurred by a quick prod to its belly, first at a trot and then into a full gallop.

Hooves soon thundered, joining her charge. The voices of dozens rose in a clamorous roar. Weapons were drawn and ready. Arrows were unleashed from those that stayed behind to defend the hill and keep a retreat path open.

Guards scrambled, reorganizing, defending themselves, drawing weapons to confront. A few fell to the projectiles. Some were spared grievous wounding or death by the thickness of their armours, forming a defence.

An advisor Maki may be but it was clear that he was not war-minded. Caltrops and pits could have prevented the swift advance of the bandits very cheaply when added to the guards. Arrows could have cut down their numbers and their mounts as effectively as they had felled the guards. The barrage had stopped as soon as the horses were within their range, archers turning to keep their aim trained on whatever other threats could come. But perhaps it was for the best that someone political and power-minded had not grasped such ideas.

The gate had to be opened quickly now that they had revealed themselves.

Alarms were already sounding. If the house dispatched a messenger it should not be hard to intercept.

Guards were being fought to a standstill pressed to the side, keeping those that came from around the walls from flanking the bandits, dealt and controlled through blade, strength and horses, clearing a path, the signal sent.

A pair of ox with a battering ram harnessed between them barrelled down the field, aiming for the gates.

Their handler rode after them, his orders cutting through the din of battle.

The impact bent the boards, cracking more than a few. Shouts echoed from the inside, fearful and loud. It seemed they were not ready yet, that the guards were still gathering. The animals hollered, backing away. A couple more charges should do it. The first strike had been terribly crippling to the structure.

Yumi dismounted, giving the reins to one of her men to guide, ready to advance as soon as a breach was achieved, cutting down the guards that came after her, swinging the nagamaki, using both hands on the long handle to maximum effect. They had been thinking that an adversary on foot would be easier to take down perhaps. Or she had just been the one closest to their aim.

The gates crumpled to the strength of ox and ram, leaving room for at least two bodies side by side to cross. Yumi whistled, moving her blade, pointing towards the breach, demanding their compliance. She crossed the broken barrier without a look back, trusting her warriors to do what was needed, protecting the gate from its former guardians and for as many as could be spared to follow her within the den of their enemy's underling.

No names were called. It was a rule. When in battle they should not reveal themselves. Yumi crossed the gate, sweeping the blade, pushing back the guards. Four men followed her.

A solid wall waited of defence waited. Spear-holders rushed them, putting their weight in their weapons.

Yumi confronted them, pushing the spears up with a curved upwards slash, vertically, catching the shaft, using their own momentum and strength to throw the guards off balance, dropping to one knee as she succeeded, gripping the hilt with both hands, shifting them just enough to strike, sweeping the blade against the defenceless legs.

Arching sweeps. Spiralling evades. One-handed thrusts turning the blade into a spear-like weapon for a sharp, puncturing instant before it returned to Yumi's two handed scything. Graceful circles opened the field around her, controlling the flow of enemies, deflecting and dodging. Circle, spiral, strike and move.

Time was ticking.

No flare brightened the sky to signal the impending arrival of reinforcements. Yet.

Guards still converged, hesitating as they were faced with their fallen comrades. Some blinded by rage and revenge attacked right away. Others returned to the house. They would undoubtedly go to their master to fortify whatever room he had chosen to hole himself in.

Yumi signalled her warriors, moving on once more, giving chase to those that had left. They didn't turn, they didn't face her. Most likely they were hoping that the elite would be enough to stop her when they reached the guarded room.

It was a gamble on their part.

The fortified wooden gate-like door closed when Yumi reached it. Locked thigh by the looks of it. Within the household she could not search the sky for warning. The sounds of battle still echoed from the outside but she was sure a warning horn would be easy to hear. Neither her warriors nor the household soldiers seemed to have followed her. Too busy defending or securing the yard.

Lowering the nagamaki she approached the door, brushing her gloved palm against it, giving it a push. It rattled but did not budge. It was not as thick as the gates but it would still take a battering ram and a few men to take it down. Yet… fingers dipped into the middle partition. A blade could slide through, saw through the beam. But a sawing motion could take time.

Yumi stepped back, adjusting her stance, taking a deep breath. The blade was raised at shoulder height, both hands one the hilt, eyes closed. She began to move, circling the nagamaki around her body, blade singing as it cut through the air, taking a step forward with each rotation, gaining, gathering energy, widening the radius as she approached. The last step impaled the space between the thick boards, slicing upwards, cutting through the log that functioned as a bolt. She rested it against her shoulder as it left the gate, stopping the motion, settling, breathing, balancing and readying.

Screams and surprise inside. She advanced, pushing the gates open, walking unflinchingly against the new challenge, rearing to her full height nagamaki hissing as it was brought down and back, the charged accompanied only by her silence and their roars of anger.


	6. Chapter 6

"Do not just stand there! Defend me!" Maki shouted in a panic, the elite that surrounded him made of only the eight that were renowned. It looked like he had sent all of his forces into the courtyard in an attempt to prevent the bandit's advance with a solid wall of warriors. He had been expecting a one-sided slaughter outside, an utter demise of his attacker under the weight of many men and expertly crafted weaponry. And now he found himself scarcely guarded and quite cornered.

Yumi intercepted the naginata, deflecting to the left, stepping into range, spiralling into the attack, slashing across the man's midriff, through armour and padding, ignoring the screams of pain as her motions pushed him back, out of her way.

Changing her hand positioning on the hilt made blocking the kamayari easier before its hooked blade could lock on her neck, following through with the circular motion, bringing the weapon's shaft to the floor, cutting through the wood. Using the wielder's wobbly retreat Yumi curved to the right, cleanly decapitating the man, stepping beyond the corpses, coming closer, raising the blade straight in front to her, body sideways, minimizing the vulnerable area she presented, scanning the slightly too small battlefield.

Dodging while protecting her nagamaki was the only sound option to take when one of the elite wielding the heavy spiked kanabo slammed it down, shattering the boards beneath the tatami. It was a slower weapon to wield but much more devastating to face. Like giving a kanabo to an oni the saying stated. Making a strong man even stronger with a weapon that could shatter swords.

Forced to dance in evasion of each strike, mindful of the remaining five that circled around, striking at her in an attempt to get the bandit in range of the weapon that would be most devastating, Yumi gritted her teeth, trying to listen beyond the taunts and Maki's overconfidence.

Had the alarms sounded?

Were the usurper's reinforcements already on their way?

Were her warriors coming…

The onslaught was not ebbing. She was keeping her attention on the kanabo wielder.

Maybe it was time to be reckless she though as her feet carried her away from the iron club's heavy strike.

Twirling her blade Yumi turned her back on the threat a few paces away and slammed into one of the katana wielders, breaching through their trapping game, taking his arm before slashing though his life.

Ignore the oni. Avoid him, evade his weapon but ignore his attacks. Ignore his figure. Treat him as a moving tree, falling debris. Deal with the ones that would stab her in the back instead.

In changing strategy the slow pace of the man's weapon would work for her even as it dented the ground and made movement more difficult. She could use that too.

Yumi jumped over the small crater, circling the nagamaki around her, turning the blade down, impaling the Samurai that had seen no way to cross the broken boards. Pulling the blade, turning around, changing her hands in time to shove away a katana's thrust, spiralling into the man, her back touching the armour.

Too close for anything but a dagger to harm her.

The hilt of her weapon slammed into his gut, sending him to the ground as Yumi spun along with the blade, taking it high, skewering it through, letting go, moving around her abandoned blade to be in the position to pull it out and keep moving forward.

Maki was looking terrified now. His elite was failing. No soldiers were returning to his aid. And he did not know if he was to be killed or captured. But he was doing nothing to help or prevent it. Some men would have already committed seppuku to avoid the dishonour and the enemy imprisonment. One thing was certain of the advisor. Death was the course he did not want to follow. But there was no way to escape the former safe room either.

Without the constant pressure it was easier to avoid the kanabo. But there were still two more samurai preventing her from finding the weak spot she needed to cut through that enemy. Grimacing Yumi parried the blade moving her way, twisting it down, letting go of her hilt, her had shooting forwards, punching the Samurai, sending his head reeling back as she reached down, releasing the wakizashi sheathed on his belt, slashing through the exposed throat, discarding the borrowed blade, rewilding her own, glaring under her hood at the last katana wielder remaining.

The man's grip trembled as he started to step back. The retreat was sudden and full, fearful and scrambling. He had no troubles in fleeing being near the doorway and having the certainty that the beast slaughtering the others would only give chase if he had been Maki Benkei.

That left a furious Oni and a terrified courtier.

Yumi centred again, examining the single adversary.

The oni charged, kanabo swinging hard.

Maybe it was time to push a little more, call the Earth itself to her aid. Standing her ground Yumi waited, finding the harmony needed to wield her element. The Earth only answered to those that knew their place, that knew balance, stability and order. Be aware, connect with what surrounded her.

As the iron swung down she moved, quaking following her spiralling steps, destabilizing the hulking brute, the curve of her swings catching the now open flank, the movement taking her to the back and to the other side, the barrage of circling slashes bringing the Oni down.

Yumi's foot hit the ground in a last rumble, closing the path of aggression, sheathing the nagamaki at her back, approaching the cowering Maki.

Barely a punch was needed to knock him out. If he talked maybe it would be simpler to see who they could call. Without him maybe the usurper's reach would be smaller. She reached down, grabbing the fabric of his clothes, dragging him out.

Outside the battle was still going on. She heard horses approaching.

It was time to retreat…

Yumi let go of the prisoner, pulling the nagamaki free again when a man she did not know appeared, blocking the entrance with his presence. She hesitated. He was unarmoured and she did not recognize him as any of Sojiro's lackeys. It had to be the ronin. Carefully she appraised him, shifting her grip.

It was unfortunate.

* * *

Kojuro had crossed the battlefield easily, pushing away whoever stood in his way. The advisor was the target of that incursion. To cripple his lord through the absence of death or the giving away of all the secrets he was in possession of. Whatever the goal of the bandits the elimination of the advisor was clearly key. So he had to reach the inner sanctum.

The tall hooded figure dragging the downed advisor went into immediate defence when Kojuro blocked the path. A nagamaki wielder moving slow and carefully, watching him. For someone who had downed all those warriors the instant recognition of skill was flattering.

"There is no need to fight." Kojuro called out carefully, ready to draw his blade just in case. The bandits had been fighting for a long time. Anything else in a battlefield was seen as suspicious. But they needed to talk if the Right Eye of the Dragon was to have all the pieces needed to aid in putting that province on its correct course. The fragments he had were enough for a start and for Saki. But to justify anything else they would not be enough for Masamune-sama.

Steps echoed on the corridors behind him.

Kokuryuu blocked the strike, Kojuro's stance widening to keep it steady. The nagamaki wielder was taller and the longer hilt allowed for more strength and pressure to be poured into the weapon despite the willowy figure. And Kojuro was just being kept in place, time bought from inaction.

Two other bandits entered the room. The Right Eye's attempts to disengage and pursue were deflected, returned to the standstill.

"The reinforcements came." One of the bandits was shouting. Clearly the one with the nagamaki was the boss. There was no break in focus, the hands on the hilt forcing Kojuro to back away to keep from kneeling. "They set fire to the house." Crackling and smoke were pouring through the corridors. "Everything else is according to plan. We'll take Maki." He stopped. "Deal with the ronin as you see fit."

The sharp nod within the hood was barely perceivable but the movements of the nagamaki as Kojuro disengaged and fought back were precise and purposeful. He was to be kept occupied as other made their escape.

In a burning building.

With a skilled bandit.

Amidst corpses.

Hard to believe they would accept his help at that point.


	7. Chapter 7

Smoke roiled in dark clouds, drifting into the room. Fire crackled closing in. Screams of panic and haste had substituted the sounds of the battle outside. Find the lord, kill the fire and inform their superiors were now the priorities.

Kojuro was still deadlocked in a duel. The bandit was swift and well trained. But they were roughly matched. Superficial wounds had been carved on his flesh due to the lack or armour. Damage was showing in the patches that formed his.

And the guards and soldiers would soon be coming into the inner sanctums to look for their missing lord and eliminate or capture any stragglers. They did not have the time to spare because if the bandit was overpowered by numbers the chances of Ryoma being able to speak with him and get to the truth would be very few.

Blades screeched as they clashed, entwining as they tried to outmanoeuvre, overpower each other.

Kojuro breached the straining block they seemed to find themselves every time they lunged at one another, charging, trying to overpower his opponent into listening.

If he could disarm and restrain… But until then he chose to not repeat himself.

Katana countering the nagamaki.

Restricting his attacks to forceful but non-lethal was also taking a good chunk of his focus.

Spiralling made for easy evasions and swift retributions.

But something about the footwork and force was hinting that the bandit was also unwilling to use deadly force. Maybe he understood he was the ronin, the link to the outside, to the One-Eyed Dragon's attention.

In that balance of forces the Right Eye of the Dragon was able to pour his focus into disarming the foe, throwing the nagamaki away, sending it skittering though the tatami, stopping next to one of the bodies.

He moved the katana, pointing it towards the adversary's chest.

"There is no need to fight." Kojuro repeated. It was an advantage he had gained now. Might as well use it while the sounds of steps were still away.

A small gravely sound came from the hood. It sounded like a chuckle. It sounded like a _woman_ 's throaty dismissively amused chuckle. Thrown off balance Kojuro wavered, trying to place the new information, unsure that it served any purpose.

It was understandable why the punch to his face caught him off guard, springing abruptly and from the right, curving around the threat of the blade, sending his head whipping back, followed by a sweeping leg under his. Kojuro fell flat on his back, still holding the katana.

 _She_ dove to her blade, picking it up, approaching before he recovered, stepping on his wrist, stilling his chances of using the kokuryuu, pointing the weapon at his throat, hilt on both hands, keeping him subdued. It had been a while, Kojuro thought, keeping serious.

"What do you know about any of this outsider?" Yumi asked sharply, voice as low as she could keep it while still being audible, glancing at the doorway. It was going to be impossible to walk out that way unbothered in instants. The fire seemed to be making sure of it. But it was still a viable path…

"Date Saki sent me because she was given reason to doubt Hikawa Sojiro's claim to power." The ronin revealed, unbothered by his position, glaring solemnly through his scruffy appearance, dark eyes still and honest. "All I have seen and reported seems to support that suspicion. And all you have done as bandits lead me to believe you know the truth the Dragon's Shadow needs to set things right in this province."

Yumi hesitated. He was promising help for the truth. But it was a great sign of trust on just words that could so easy be empty. Telling the tale… showing the proof… The she took her foot from his wrist, twirling the blade to clear it, sheathing the nagamaki, turning, taking a deep breath through the cloth. While he needed to talk to them he also had to keep his credibility. Maybe it was a leap of faith that could be taken. All this had to end some daysomeday and he was sent from Oshu. Fate had to help sometime.

"Chase me." Yumi ordered, walking past the man, readying, cutting the wall, breaching a path by kicking the slashed, weakened wood, slamming into an unoccupied corridor, looking back, nodding.

Ryoma's shout of rage, warning and alarm was convincing.

The guards converged as expected, scrambling, surprised to see anyone coming from that part of the house. But in the confusion and choking smoke it was very hard to keep track of anything. They did not dare to take out their weapon in fear of hitting one of their own. And the goal was to save their lord that should still be deeper inside. A few even reasoned that there should be a breach that bypassed the fire, running to it in haste and hope.

Yumi ran thought the crowd, through the house, through the yard, through the now wide open broken gate, pushing, punching and kicking people out of the way.

Shouts of encouragement from male voices told her the ronin had obeyed her request, hot in pursuit.

No fight broke her momentum. If she had had to stop, draw a blade and kill Ryoma would have caught up too soon and the improvise plan would have failed and she would have been captured. And suspicion would have fallen on him if he gave any quarter to allow her escape.

It was a delicate balance placed on a gamble.

The horse answered readily to her whistle as she burst through the gate, reaching the outer wall and the field. The animal charged, threatening anyone in its way to its mistress slowing down just enough for her to hop on the saddle, inciting it to run on the opposite direction of the camp.

The wind was cold, the mist was parting before her and the scent of smoke cleared away from her lungs.

The soldiers barely tried to follow. Most didn't even have horses to make the attempt.

Glancing back showed Ryoma on his own mean and also scruffy-looking horse, gaining ground, avoiding traps and obstacles that would have discouraged lesser men. His horse seemed used to the bumpy wilderness track as well. Maybe because it was a mountain breed...

Good.

Yumi allowed the chase to go on as she guided him towards the old place where she had seen the treachery unfold. The place where she had been forced to face a bad reality, to take up weapons and try to save herself and what remained of the Hikawa's.

Maybe if Saki came… from the war the shinobi had a reputation. Perhaps a woman would listen and understand better than some lordless male.

And if Ryoma did not understand, if he would not help then she would kill him and send his remains to Sojiro to warn him against trying to involve the One-Eyed Dragon in his game.


	8. Chapter 8

The place where the woman dismounted and took shelter, waiting, were the remains of a once grand household. The wood that still showed was burnt and the stonework shattered. Nature was making strides in covering the site, erasing it from view, existence and memory, leaving few traces that human life had once claimed that area. The jagged edges under mist, moonlight and the small fire she had built while Kojuro caught up were barely discernible. Possibly few would be able to reach it. Or even remember. Earthquakes and what they destroyed scarred the memories with bitter thoughts and the need to forget and move forward.

What he was looking at would have been a normal occurrence in another place.

A house of a wealthy family destroyed by an earthquake and its consequences, abandoned, the owners rebuilding and continuing with their lives elsewhere. But like everything else in that province something was dissonant. And that bandit woman's presence there only made it more obvious.

Not the camp then. If he turned on her only she was lost. Cautious. The Right eye dismounted, tying the horse next to hers. The animals showed no animosity. Kojuro sighed, rubbing his cold hands together, tucking them into the sleeves as he approached.

"All you know is what you have been told and what you suspect." Yumi pulled her hood away, letting the man get a good look of her face. At least as good as the small flame allowed. "This is not trust. This is desperation." At her gesture he sat down on a rock that had once belonged to the walls that should have kept them safe. "We are unsure how far back Hikawa Sojiro's plot started. Someone always seems to appear with a connection dating further back than what we had pinned as the start of his treachery." She paused, trying to decide where to start her tale. With the traitor or with herself… "Sojiro is a distant relation of the Hikawa ruling family. Slowly he approached, moving through the branches until his influence touched the trunk of the family tree, starting with the son and heir Hikawa Sion. There is where my story starts. My name is Hikawa Yumi, Sion's daughter."

"Dead by all records." Ryoma answered, his rough voice low but not unkind. Yumi nodded.

"Father was the heir and he already had my brothers to continue the bloodline. My grandfather was the ruler. All seemed very solid. Even through the warring times the province managed to survive and keep the people safe." Yumi paused, staring at the flames. "Sojiro came to visit one day. Business as usual. He had started to work for one of grandfather's advisors and as such it was not unusual for him to come with an escort and important documents. He killed my father and eldest brother in the meeting and signalled his men to start the fire." Yumi stood, turning towards the ruins, her fingers tracing the handle of the nagamaki gently, reminiscing. "Perhaps our men would have had a chance to fight but it seemed everything had conspired against us."

"An earthquake." Ryoma said, starting her. Yumi turned, eyes narrowed. "The stones." He answered, taking his hand away from the hair he seemed about to slick back, letting the fringe fall over his eyes. "Human power could not have moved the path and the walls like this."

"True." Yumi accepted his answer. "And stab wounds are not as obvious when the corpses are shattered under rubble. His fire was crafted to cover the tracks but the earthquake worked so much better. My mother was caught under the ceiling. Jin was with me. We were able to escape but his leg was crushed. Tadao, one of father's generals found us and took us away. He understood what was happening. My brother died from the infection days later, in the woods as we tried to reach my grandfather." The time, the grief… it had delayed them too much. "Sojiro left some of his men to die, making it all more believable, and blamed the whole thing on the fire caused by the earthquake. So we were all dead and my grandfather took the blow very harshly. He fell into despair and that was all the traitor needed to take control." Ryoma said nothing, waiting. Yumi sighed. "It is obvious you are thinking «why did I not reach out for my grandfather?» I did. It was too late. He did not recognize me as living. He thought he was seeing a ghost." And cried, despair deepening. He had her doll, the one Yumi had forgotten on the last visit to his estate, Jin's haiku attempts, Saito's toy sword, father's old drawings, mother's hairpin... "Tadao and I started to gather people that had been deceived by Sojiro and had seen him for what he was. They started training me to fight. We attempted assassinations. They failed and we had no money or influence to attempt any more. So as bandits we began to chip away at the base, attempting to make him crumble."

"And it has been enough for him to feel desperate enough to reach out for someone that might discover the extent of his treason." Ryoma nodded, seemingly impressed.

"He has the scorn of the people. We are the ones who keep this province from dying under his demands. We steal crops and wealth so the people have something after paying the taxes. We are the ones who hunt down real bandits while Sojiro gathers guards and warriors to keep him and his entourage protected from ghosts. We can't attack him too directly. What you saw tonight was a very rare chance that we took. It paid off but it could as easily have turned into a disaster had his reinforcements arrived in a timely manner…" Yumi paused, noticing her speech had grown too impassionate. "Forgive me. That is too much to say."

"Does he know your identity?" Ryoma stood, approaching, back turned to the fire, staring ahead with her. There were no graves and no markers there. But that was the place where the ghosts inhabited.

"No. I am sure he does not or else he would want me alive and presented as his bride." She sneered, disgusted. "Having the last of the Hikawa's main bloodline back in the ruling position would appease a lot of the unrest we have strived to create."

"I see." Kojuro admitted, thinking. The tall slender woman stood, unbroken, unbent, willing to throw away all to have her province rid of a parasite.

"Is this enough for the One-Eyed Dragon?" Yumi asked slowly, her hand gripping her weapon, expecting his betrayal.

"I believe it will be." Kojuro answered. "But you will need to travel to Oshu and present your case to them while your bandits keep Sojiro's attention on the loss of his advisor and the impending civil unrest."

"I see… you are requesting to be lead to our camp as an ally." Yumi stepped back, suspicious.

Kojuro bowed humbly.

"I do not serve your enemy but I have ties to the greatest allies you can have. Surely your desperation is enough to take that leap." Kojuro stated. She had already given him the information. If he was to truly help all she had to do was extend the words into actions.

"Follow me." Yumi ordered, brusquely, snuffing out the small fire.


	9. Chapter 9

The new camp could only be found by waiting for a scout to find them first.

Yumi guided her horse carefully in the darkness, waiting, searching for any sign of pursuit or allies, the hood back on its place. Ryoma followed at the same speed, also looking around, one hand on the reins, the other on the blades. He had not yet introduced himself and only because of the scouts, spies and goodwill of the servants the group knew his name and had the general description. Maybe caution but not oversight. He had reasons to be as wary of them as they had to be wary of him, even in the present situation. Or maybe he was just one of those men who preferred to only have to tell who they were once.

Dawn was a few hours away and the night was at its darkest.

A small lantern moved in the trees. Yumi stopped, glancing at it, changing direction, heading towards the tree the light was hanging from, swaying in the night wind. There area it lit was limited and faint, more of a marker that could be easily overlooked than anything else. But that was the point. They would have to wait until the scout returned to the spot and made sure they were allies.

"Give me your daisho." Yumi asked, dismounting. Ryoma nodded without questioning her request, unstrapping the blades from his obi. He was scanning the area with a look of approval. She felt a small amount of pride with that recognition. Still being alive and able to fight back was proof of their skill and tenacity. But seeing someone recognize that as well felt nice. The scout would be back soon.

* * *

The scout had been suspicious, staring at the Right Eye with a displeased expression beneath the mask of sooth. A simple no had quelled his questions and he had fulfilled his duty as a guide, keeping his guard up and his weapons trained on Kojuro's back. Her arrival had been greeted with relief and immediate suspicion. Exactly the same attitude of the scout.

Yumi moved like a general, greeting her warriors quickly, asking for the other commanders to gather, dragging Kojuro along, barely relenting in vigil. She was showing them that Ryoma was not to be trusted just yet but he was not to be outright shunned. That slackened some of the glares. However Kojuro could swear he still felt the animosity through the fabric of the tent's walls.

There was no decoration, no maps, no mounted weapons. The bare basics of a tent, constructed to be taken down or abandoned if trouble came. Two men in armour and a woman in Miko vestments. The eldest had to be the Tadao she had mentioned in her story. The other looked about Kojuro's age. The priestess's presence made sense as a connection to the people and few would suspect a traveling Miko of anything but spiritual intentions. Yumi joined them, acknowledging their presence with a sharp nod, a slight movement of her hand preventing Tadao from speaking or approaching, turning to Kojuro.

"It seems a new path had been opened to us." She started. "We know who you are but please." Yumi invited him to introduce himself and repeat his offer.

Kojuro did so, carefully, examining each reaction. They gave no names back. It was not a risk they would be willing to take in case he proved to be a traitor.

Hope, distrust, suspicion, outrage, planning and considering. Those she trusted to lead the bandit guerrilla were talking with each other as she pushed her hood away silently, placing the nagamaki and the daisho on the floor, rolling her shoulder in an attempt to relax. She waited until the argument died down to advance once again to the centre of the tent, standing straight.

"What else can we do?" Yumi asked, voice low, arms crossed behind her back. "What information Maki has on Sojiro will soon be useless. He will change everything to keep this victory meaningless. What this ronin offers is a way out of this stalemate." No one protested. There was no way to argue with a fact. At least no way that would prove any other point of view. "We are desperate. It is true that while Sojiro keeps being an oppressor there will be no shortage of people willing to join us to settle their anger. But we are no longer moving forward. It has been years and those outside did not even know what was happening in this province if not for the traitor's misstep. We can't even ask for support outside of these borders without…" Yumi sighed. "I will go with Ryoma to Oshu and plead our case. You are to stay. Take all the information you can from Maki and keep doing what we do."

A smokescreen. As long as no one suspected no one would follow. And hopefully her gamble would pay off with an army, legitimacy and freedom.

* * *

Yumi undressed slowly, tired to the core, satisfied with the final tally of the day's endeavours. The raid and the unexpected. In a day they would leave. The bare minimum time needed to rest bodies and horses, to gather supplies. Being on the move was nothing new but this time she had to remind herself to not let her guard down. No matter how much she had reassured others there was no way she could trust that easily.

Even if his eyes seemed honest. Even when he seemed to understand.

* * *

Kojuro accepted the food and the blanket courteously even though he did not need it. What possession Ryoma had had been strapped to the horse as befitted the mind-set of a ronin. And of someone who should not let his identity be uncovered by whatever trinket was carelessly left behind. But it was a gesture of good will from the warriors in the group and he would treat it as such.

The news had spread quickly through the small camp. Yumi had been right in her evaluation. People were tired of the conflict as much as they wanted to keep it up. Most of all they wanted an end to it.

It was a painful past to be carrying. And it was something Yumi was reminded of every day. But it was something she carried with strength and purpose, something that had forged a general that would not have been out of place in the warring states before the Dragon soared and a unifier.

Saki was going to be in a bad mood. Masamune was going to be in a worse mood.

A slight smile played over his lips.

Hikawa Sojiro should be very concerned by now. His advisor was gone. The ronin was gone. His support from within was weakened. And as soon Saki received word that Ryoma was missing she would be pressuring him for the sake of watching the man squirm while waiting for Kojuro to show up.


	10. Chapter 10

Patrols had increased in number and frequency in the span of that single night. They had also ventured into areas usually left alone, the wilder parts of the woods, the planted fields, the deepest areas of the rivers, where no one could cross on foot or horse, fanning around the countryside, marching through roads, staying in the villages, camping by the waypoints, wherever and encounter with a fleeing traitor could occur. Organized and searching for Ryoma in particular and the bandits as usual with a whipped, fearful fervour. And also clamouring to recover the lost advisor. Although it was doubtful that anything but execution awaited the man. Sojiro would not believe no secrets had been given even as Maki proved to be a bit more tight-lipped than the usual sycophantic follower.

As early as dawn, as the camp was being dismantled and the supplies strapped on the horses, rumours of the closing of the province's border had already reached them. Scouts came back pinpointing the changed patterns and increased numbers, mapping them as best as they could for the benefit of all, heading back into peril undeterred.

Torn between frustration and pride Yumi had received the updates and departed with the ronin.

A few days had just turned into two weeks if she was interested in being optimistic in her calculations. The plan however was so simple that it could not be changed in its essence. The details had never been too set to begin with.

It was a gamble with too many dices.

Hunting and hunted. Looking ahead, around, behind, beyond. But in that way there was no reason to not cut through the terrain straight and only move away from the goal when forced to.

Ryoma had agreed that ignoring the set markers would make it faster and less likely to fall into traps.

If the scout's information did not suffer any major change they could still regain some time even with the restrained options presented. Her people were thorough and while in the province there was the chance of updates whenever they could be found. Less likely to occur because of the risk but still a chance.

The others had launched their misleading campaign immediately, warning camps that had not participated in the raid to move out.

Throughout the province unrest bubbled and boiled over.

Raids, riots and revolts.

Intercepted patrols.

Sieged outposts.

Robberies and chases.

Some of the events that would have been impossible without new information.

Some bluster, some bluff and intimidation.

A few would be killed.

A few would be captured.

Hopefully most could escape to keep fighting until help came.

Through the confusion, the thinning of forces, some luck and calculation Yumi and Ryoma were able to cross the first leg of the journey with just one sighting and four detours to avoid patrols, suspicion and any chase attempt.

* * *

"Was this any different?" Yumi asked, sitting with her hood still on, staring at the embers that kept them warm, nagamaki propped against her shoulder. Low, hidden, near water. It was a good place to camp. The horses were cared for, not too overworked.

They had been silent, performing their tasks efficiently. They ate in silence. They marked a perimeter noiselessly. Cared for their weapons and equipment quietly. It seemed easier to be together in the daylight and focused in a goal, exchanging only information, directions and plans. Now… Nothing to do but rest and that meant… vulnerability. And curiosity was a bad thing to have amidst that suspicion.

"From the war?" Ryoma shook his head slowly, sitting across her, weapons laid on front of his knees, resting and ready. Like that they could keep watch over what could move beyond their backs. While both were awake. They had to change positions when taking turns to allow their bodies to regain energy. And for efficiency sake that meant getting closer. "Most of it was indeed riding from place to place. Sometimes retreating. Others advancing. Others just getting to a town where we could rest and resupply."

"I see…" The uncomfortable silence returned. She wanted to ask other things. Who had he served. Battles. Victories. Why he trusted Date Saki enough to offer betrayal as soon as he saw something was off. But nothing came. Asking questions meant he could ask right back and Yumi felt she had said enough to someone that was still, in all honesty, a stranger.

"You should rest. I'll take the first watch." Ryoma suggested, looking up through the baring branches, examining the sky. Yumi flinched, suspicious. Last night the others had been there to prevent any treason. Now she could not be sure. He tilted his head, observing, noticing the faint motion beneath the blanket and hood. "If you feel uncertain I can take the second watch in exchange of a promise to let me live through my sleep."

"I apologise." Yumi kept her lips from twitching upwards at that small attempt at humour. "You are giving me a chance to make things right but… but I can't..."

"Trust will not easy for someone who had her faith so thoroughly shattered. I understand." Ryoma stood and picked up his weapons, looking around. "Here. Our back's won't be exposed this way." Adjusting the camp by a few feet made it easier for one person to keep watch. The ronin turned his back on her, showing nothing but trust, covered by the blanket, weapons further away than others she had seen, than Tadao had taught her.

* * *

The movement of the running horse shook Yumi awake, abruptly.

Blinking, confused she looked around, seeing trees blurred by speed.

Ryoma was holding her against his chest as they rode, zigzagging through the trees. Exhaustion of three nights preparing, fighting and planning was the only reason she found for not waking when he had moved her to the horse's back and fled.

It was still night.

It could not be that long after they changed watch shifts.

"They used hounds." Ryoma said, noticing her glare and the start of the struggle to get rid of him. "Your horse is tied to mine." The barks echoed after them. "We'll need a river."

Not a betrayal? Yumi pressed her lips together, staring ahead. Even though she was awake and had gripped the saddle, steadying herself and adjusting to the rhythm of the animal, his arm stayed around her waist, keeping her secure, guiding the horse as if unimpaired.

If found he would have had a chance of a new lord, a new life, wealth and fame.

But he chose to keep helping her and the orders that had lead him to the province.

Once again.

"Ride north. When the trees start to thin there is a ravine." Yumi whispered. "An underground river forms a waterfall and a stream down to the road." The carved valley beneath had been their hideout for a few months.


	11. Chapter 11

The sudden storm proved to be a blessing to make the chase come to an end.

The night before the stream had indeed masked their scent and tricked the dogs.

A dash through the woods and a tense, silent wait, pressed close together and keeping the horses calm, close against the stone, making sure the pursuers were truly gone and tricked, hoping the night was dark enough to keep their tracks from being too noticeable.

The sounds of horses and dogs had died out, leaving nothing but the echo of water falling and the night.

Somehow Ryoma had convinced Yumi to take what sleep she could despite the tension and the sudden chase, despite the fear that they could return and caught them unawares. Without a fire to keep warm he had had her sleeping between the horses, persuading the animals to sleep lying down as well, as if there was no threat from predators around, foregoing his blanket to make a tent over her and the horse's flanks. He had taken exactly the same sleeping spot when his watch was over, trusting her with the shift and his life once again.

Secluded away the spot had worked well, as it had before for the whole group.

However the hunters had not given up.

As soon as they abandoned the camp it took a mere handful of hours for their trail to be found and the horses to be pushed into a frenzied run once more.

With two horses and two riders they were able to add another layer of confusion and misdirection to their escape, speeding, falling behind, splitting and regrouping.

Unlike last night they were now alert and prepared for the hunters to follow and to take care of the dogs first.

The use of meat was surprisingly efficient. The hounds must have bee hungry and overworked, taking the reward without question, stopping the chase gleefully.

Humans of the other hand would be harder to shake off as the reward they sought depending on actually catching their quarry.

Ryoma kept showing signs of being an expert rider, leading his horse through practiced motions with barely a question or a look back and Yumi knew the terrain and where traps had been left.

But with rain turning roads to mud and the water curtaining what was ahead of them the pursuers lost their ability to keep up and recover from their head start. And they lost a lot of their mobility as well despite the obvious benefits.

The Ronin was now leading them away from the known and easy paths, delving deeper into the woods, staring at trees, walking on foot, slower, leading the horses by the reigns.

He seemed to be ignoring the rain.

Soaked through Yumi was doing her best to be the same way but even her hood no longer kept water from streaming down her face.

"What are you doing?" Yumi asked quietly as he stopped once more, tapping a tree that looked no different from the others. Somehow there was growing feeling of wandering about in circles within her, even as she decided to grow a bit of faith in the man.

"During the war a few of us were trusted enough to be given the instructions of how to reach a shinobi's yashiki." Ryoma explained. "This way."

"You were trusted?" Yumi asked softly.

A smile crossed his stern features.

"That is why I'm here." He answered in a spirited manner, keeping his stride steady.

* * *

There really was a hidden house at the end of that tortuous path under the heavy cold rain.

Yumi blinked a few times, gripping the reins, dismounting, joining the Ronin as they approached.

There was also light shining behind the panels and a little faint trail of smoke coming from it.

"It is lit… There is someone there." Yumi whispered cautiously, hand sneaking towards her nagamaki.

Ryoma gripped her wrist lightly, pulling it away. His hand was as cold and wet as she was. But the steady hold was somehow less threatening than it should feel. He was keeping her from the weapon but there was no hostility in his gesture.

"Most likely a ninja." Ryoma answered calmly, still advancing, shaking wet hair away from his eyes, guiding the horses under the roof meant for such animals to rest, tying them in place. "If not we will deal with it."

They did not have to enter to confront whoever was inside as the screen slid out of the way, as if attracted by the quiet chatter.

"Ryoma." A man in peasant clothes greeted them, arms crossed.

Despite the warning Yumi drew her weapon, standing to the Ronin's side, staring down the supposed ninja who just looked vaguely amused. It dawned on her that she had taken a position to fight with the ronin's support.

"Kiko." Ryoma greeted him easily and by name, turning with a shrug, caring for the horses. At that show of ease Yumi relaxed, returning the blade to its scabbard, doing the same for her mount, pulling the wet hood further down. "Were you waiting?"

"We are all on alert." Kiko answered, joining in, bowing his head in greeting. "Honoured to meet you Hikawa-sama." Yumi stepped back, stunned as he took over her task.

"Go inside and warm yourself." Ryoma suggested. She hesitated, watching them under the limp fabric. "Saki has been amusing herself with the lordling, hasn't she?"

"The situation is creating a lot of unrest. Mostly contained but the other provinces are noticing that Sojiro is doing something wrong." Kiko confirmed. "Ojou-sama is demanding to know what happened to her envoy, why are the soldiers so agitated and so on. Ojou-sama is making it look like there is a coup against the One-Eyed Dragon in the making."

"Masamune-sama?"

"He is returning. Word is he is thinking of getting in on the fun."

"Ask her to keep him from interfering."

"I will give Ojou-sama the message but I doubt either will consider your opinion on this matter." Kiko finished brushing the horse. "Enjoy the shelter and don't forget to thoroughly put out the fire when you leave. I have left some papers for you as well." Kiko bowed and vanished.

Yumi kept staring, standing at the open entrance.

There was something odd about the easy way they referred to their leaders and the way they exchanged information, trustingly, unafraid. And there was something unsettling about the fact that the shinobi had just known who she was without even seeing her face. The crests were not that obvious either. Still she was dealing with the ones that had emerged victorious from an ear of conflict and war… maybe she should not be so surprised. But thankfulness was a growing feeling. She glanced at Ryoma, turning away, clenching her fists, bewildered.


	12. Chapter 12

There was an uncomfortable truth about being on the run, in the rain, out of the rain and in cramped quarters. It did have a separate room for bathing but without a soaking tub. The shinobi had left buckets of warm water for them. But to keep from getting sick they had to get out of the wet clothes.

And there was simply no room to do that in any kind of privacy.

Maybe there would have been if Yumi hadn't lingered and listened into the conversation. And she was painfully aware that she would have had the time to undress, bathe, as quick as that affair may have been with a single bucket, and put on the loose and warm kimono left there by the ninja if she had followed Ryoma's advice. Meaning she would have been warm and able to wait outside when it was his turn to get out of his clothes and bath.

Reminding herself that she was a warrior and was accustomed to seeing her people naked and bathing as a camp offered as little privacy as that was not helping. Simply because he was a stranger. Bug growing cold and sick was not an option.

Ryoma had walked in the small warm room, glanced at her before turning and undressing, giving her a modicum of seclusion even as he tended efficiently to his soggy state.

Appreciative Yumi followed his example, looking over her shoulder as she did so, unwilling and unable to give him the same trust, eyes taking in the physique and the scars, watching as he moved, trying to loosen the tension. Pressing lips together she tossed aside the last of her garments, walking into the next room, cheeks colouring.

It was bit of a shameless ogle but… the excuse of security and vigilance weaved in her mind fell apart. In all honesty she had looked because she was curious as to why the presence of one single naked man was making her shy when she had years shared of that same situation with others.

* * *

Kojuro allowed a very long sigh to escape when the water started to splash against the stone on the other side of the wooden walls, pulling his hair back, slicking it down out of habit before noticing and mussing it again, grabbing a towel to pat the moistness away as precaution.

A wet Yumi without her hood had looked at him with a mixture of concern and budding trust. She was showing her face. Had barely questioned his actions, advice or the previous conversation. It was… familiar. Yet it had been a long time since he had had to gain someone's trust as a protector. It did bring a bit to mind a very young Masamune-sama.

What was unfamiliar was he prickling feeling when he knew she was peeking. The brief flash of pride. And what in heavens was he supposed to do with intrusive want that was peeking behind the nagging need to protect that skittish yet self-assured woman?

Under a false name and rank but not concealing who he truly was. Everything he did, even if it was just a conversation, a question, getting to know her… for someone as scarred by betrayal as it would be yet another treachery.

No forgiveness.

No pity.

But revealing who he was would be perilous and disloyalty to Oshu. Dangerous for her too because instead of death if caught they would be looking at capture, hostage situation and possibly a forced marriage.

"I left you some warm water and can heat up more." Yumi returned as he wrapped the towel around his waist, dry but growing cold. With a thankful nod Kojuro turned, relieved to find her dressed and looking less vulnerable, taking his turn.

* * *

Supplies, clothes, maps, updates.

The shinobi had indeed left a lot behind. Yumi traced the paths, considering. Rivers and streams would be engorged. The ground muddy. Slower progress for the patrols on foot even after the rain stopped. Even by horse the speed would be reduced. That was for them and for the pursuers.

"We should wait for the rain to stop and cut straight to the mountain pass here." Ryoma suggested. "If we time it right and with favourable weather we should not cross with these patrols."

"But the mountain is hard to overcome. Especially here." Yumi agreed but she knew that area.

"Kiko marked it so I believe there will be help waiting for us." Ryoma turned to the boiling pot over the fire, stirring its contents, tasting, adding some of the diced vegetables that were waiting for their turn to simmer. "It is faster even if we are delayed with rest or obstacles."

"They are sparse in the area… a fight would go unnoticed, as would their reporting back to here" Yumi pointed towards a village to the East. "or here." A fortress to the west.

It was a half-day detour to get them back into that direction. It should work fine.

"It's ready." Ryoma decided, serving the stew.

"Should we decide the watches?" Yumi asked, accepting the bow, wrapping her hands around it.

"If it makes you feel safer." The ronin answered, taking his own portion of the food.

* * *

Saki stretched, putting work aside.

Wakasa had left hours ago.

Kazuya was asleep semi-peacefully.

Reading Sojiro's outrage was fun. She had a pile of those semi-apologetic, semi-outraged letters stacked to the side. He was adding kindling to his own pyre and did not seem to notice. The tone of the writing had changed. If she had to add facts the kunoichi would say that the missing advisor was a factor, the one that moulded the written words of the lord so they fell as smoothly as those he spoke.

Kiko's report had confirmed Kojuro was making good progress and had relayed some of the broader strokes of that little provincial drama. The heir was with him and would likely be on their side as the Right Eye's personality worked and wormed his way into trustworthiness. He just had that gift…

There was a commotion stirring by the gates.

Didn't seem threatening… She thought, standing, walking outside to meet the hurried steps that echoed all over the house. Not threatening at all, the ninja thought, joyfully.

"My Dragon." Saki greeted Masamune with a smile, arms open, allowing herself to be lifted and twirled about before being brought against his armoured self in a tight hug. The blue ceremonial armour was something the people liked to see the One-Eyed Dragon in when he crossed the country in diplomacy or mission or just for the heck of wandering and seeing what he had done. Made him more dragon-y, he joked. Also made him uncomfortable to hug for long and in silks.

"I heard you were having fun without me." Masamune teased after a greedy kiss, before letting go, fully aware of the sharp edges of the outfit that his hurry hadn't allowed to take off.

"I am. But if you care to join me in the mountains…" Saki offered, smiling.

"Samenosuke and his wife won't mind watching over Kazuya for a while." Date Masamune smiled back.


	13. Chapter 13

The rain was not stopping. It was a dull, continuous echo around the hideout, wet little pinpricks against the walls and roof. The horses were huddled under the dry roof. Blankets kept them warm. Ryoma seemed to have already have cared for and fed the animals. Nothing but the light of the day seemed to have changed.

Yumi closed the sturdy wooden screen with a sigh, frustrated. Dry and warm on the borrowed plain kimono hair just pulled back into a loose tail, brought on a strange sense of peace. Like the persecution was a dream.

While the bleak weather did not make leaving and returning to the escape impossible they had agreed that waiting it out was the best course to take. Less worrying about sickness or breaking their horse's legs on a mud puddle that was deeper than expected. Weapons and armour could rust and rot if left uncared for in that condition. Enemies could be harder to see in the grey curtain. Tracks and marks could get hard to find getting them lost or in a perilous path.

There was simply a long list of cons that had been pointed out during the planning last night.

"No need to be impatient." Ryoma spoke up. Away from the chase he was calm. Meditative. Quiet. In her experience men were not quiet unless something was wrong or the current mission demanded it of them. The camp was always loud, busy. If she wanted silence she had to hunt it down which often meant wandering away, something Tadao strongly discouraged. "This delay may even further disorient an enemy that believes we are simply fleeing." Meaning pushing forward blindly in desperation.

"Yes. I understand that." No other answer to be given, in truth. She sat down once more, staring. There were no more plans to be made. There were no more supplies to take care of. The shinobi had left the place with everything one could need. Medicine. Extra weapons. Poison. The clothes were dry, ready to be worn as soon as the weather permitted. The weapons were sharp and ready. The fire was still going, low and comforting. They didn't even need to leave to get more wood to burn. A pot by the flames reheated the food. No waste. If they wanted to bathe the buckets were filled with rain. Just warm them as needed.

Nothing to do. Yumi thought, glancing to the other occupant of the small space.

Even if the chance had presented itself Ryoma had not shaved and his hair was still fallen around his face, making it harder to see his features. At that moment it was giving Yumi a sudden need to go to him and push the fringe back. He had strong eyes. And he hid them under dishevelled hair a frown. The scowl was gone now, his eyes closed as he meditated, his blades placed in front of his body, also at rest. Trusting but ready.

Nothing to do but talk.

"Ryoma?" He peeked when called, relaxing his stance. "It has been a long time and I was… Not really that preoccupied with it back then… koto lessons…" Yumi shook her head. Being a proper woman was a thing from a time long gone. "But you have been in Oshu for long…" She hesitated for a moment, thinking if what she was saying was right. "How is a peaceful and well ruled province like?"

Ryoma smiled a bit, a brief movement of his mouth twisting, the expression vanishing quickly.

"People are unafraid." He began to answer, leaving meditation altogether, sitting at ease, describing Oshu gently, taking her offer. If she was willing to ask meant she was already thinking beyond the escape, beyond taking down Sojiro, thinking about rebuilding.

* * *

Kojuro glanced outside through a slight crack of the panel, unwilling to fully open it and get sprayed by the rain and walked back, crouching by Yumi, placing his hand on her shoulder lightly. The tap was enough to wake her up. It did take a moment to shake the sleep away but no more than any other soldier. She didn't even made a grab for the weapon. He would call that progress with a bit of pride.

"Equip. We can move out." The right eye informed her, turning to do just that. The rain had finally cleared and they had good hours of daylight to use. The clouds were gone and the wind didn't seem to be dragging more of them their way.

"First one to get dressed goes out to scout." Yumi answered after a long silence. She had not moved. If he was a betting man he would say she had looked. Or was that just wistful thinking again.

"Unfair of you when I am the one who has no armour to buckle." Kojuro murmured, amused, trying the obi. This time he did catch her though, when twisting to wrap the fabric around his waist. A very leonine golden brown gaze moving down his back. "Saddle the horses then." He made his own request while getting the daisho and walking out into the still damp world he could have sworn she had given that throaty chuckle he had heard only once before getting punched to the ground.

* * *

Yumi caught him by the engorge stream, guiding his horse by the reins. She had followed the easy tracks at a relaxed pace, erasing them thoroughly as instructed. The saddle bags were a bit fuller than when they had started.

The yashiki had been placed in an area where everything could be concealed or expunged. As if it didn't exist.

The same could be said for the vulnerability and curiosity she had shown. It was time to return to the fight.

The hood was back in its place.

There was fire in the distance. Friendly distraction or punishment was hard to say.

"Are you all right?" Ryoma asked, mounting, guiding his horse in a circle, around hers, stopping close, placing his hand on her shoulder, companionably.

"Wondering." Yumi answered. She shook her head, covering his fingers with a gloved hand, a light grip before pushing them away. "Let's go."


	14. Chapter 14

Actual bandits should not have been a surprise.

Unstable as the situation was there was no way unsavoury, selfish, ruthless elements wouldn't take advantage of it where others could not reach.

But the focus on the goal lead to an oversight.

* * *

The forest changed to fields.

The fields were full of soldiers, sticking to their predetermined patrols. Faster on horses, circling paths, following the roads. Slower and scouting on foot, entering the fields, stomping the crops, searching without concern for the people they pushed out of the way.

Easily avoided by careful riding.

A few field workers greeted them, recognizing Yumi's figure and weapons. They helped them, concealing them is the storehouses, in sheds, calling out when the danger had passed. Golden coins were left behind even though she did not look at the people taking them, aloof not to break. Sneakily she carved something out of sight, on the edge of a wall. Something to tell her men they needed their help in that corner of land.

As the mountain approached their chosen path grew emptier, desolate, the plants low to the ground, wind-swept. The horses cut through fast, huffing. They were working the animals hard but there was a pressing need to reach the higher area, the cliff pass that lead to the border before anything else changed. They would be able to rest them as soon as that was cleared.

Yumi pulled the reins abruptly, her horse stopping, shaking its head. She held up her hand, asking him to stop as well, silent, looking around beneath the hood, straight on the saddle, tense.

Ryoma was able to coach his beast into a smoother, slower stop, glancing towards the undergrowth carefully, guiding the animal to her, keeping the noise down.

The gravely slide of a pebble whispered in the quiet. She pointed to the left, dismounting, dashing to the spot, freeing her nagamaki, cutting down the brambles in her way with one sweeping motion.

Someone fled, fast, from the hideout metres away, dashing like a hunted rabbit.

Yumi tensed, as if to give chase, stopping, stepping back, exhaling, returning the blade to is sheath on her back, arms crossing, looking around, silent, eyes closing, trying to her, feel anything else, anyone else.

Empty howling wind. Cold.

"Too far." She spoke up as Ryoma approached, still mounted, bringing her horse along, eyes scanning the horizon. The fleeing man was not dressed as a soldier, a scout or a peasant. "Let's move out."

"Even if he denounces us telling anyone we were here will be of no use. This soil doesn't hold tracks." Ryoma nodded, agreeing with her. "Hopefully it was just a poacher."

* * *

Defendable was the main requirement of a mountain camp.

Yumi scouted high, checking if the rocks above were unreachable while Ryoma walked away, down the travelled path, carrying a leather bucket towards the stream they had seen as they ascended. The commodity of having water nearby had been exchanged for progress and protection. He would also be able to see if they had been followed and erase any mark they may have left behind. She looked around, feeling the area.

It could box them in in a way but it was also very secure.

Only one way for a threat to come and any of them standing watch would be able to see it coming. Probably able to hear it first, the way the sound travelled.

The fire had to be made from the wood they had brought and whatever twigs were growing out of the rock. It would be smoky but hopefully the mountain winds were enough to make that fade and mask their location.

The horses were brushed and free from their saddles, waiting for the water. Food for them would also come from a bag. There was nothing for them to graze on nearby. Yumi petted their foreheads gently, turning, sitting on the ground, staring at the path, waiting, pushing her hood down. A few days ago she would have followed, sure he would be a liability. Now she just waited and trusted Ryoma wouldn't poison the water. Glancing at the bags Yumi was fairy sure what poison they had brought from the shinobi yashiki was in her bag.

Hiding in the mountains.

Yumi's group had not done so because in the edge of the province there was little to be done to fight against Sojiro. Even if it was more dangerous they had needed, wanted, to be in the thick of it, keeping the pressure.

But those men had no desire to fight. They were predators, hunting for their own selfish survival. And they had attacked. A pair of travellers seemed a weak target even if they were armed.

They came with warning. First light, after sundown, torches and lanterns. Then shouts. The sound of footsteps echoing.

Ryoma had been meditating by the small traveling pot heating their supper. He had stood and gripped his weapons, walking calmly towards the edge of light of their camp. Standing his ground.

Yumi placed the whetstone into her bag, standing, walking to the same limit, hood resuming its place on her head, the unsheathed nagamaki twirling in her hand finding its place in front of her, cradled in both palms.

The horses stood, tied to the rock, hooves clapping against the hard ground, staring at the sound. They had been bred for war. Loud noises were not what spooked them.

Ronin and bandit had fought against each other. Time to see how well they worked together.

Kama, sickles, chains and knives. Peasant weapons. Bloodlust, greed and brute force. At least twenty. The numbers seemed to be their main intimidation tactic. Finding those they had targeted ready to fight took them a bit aback, buying a few seconds of hesitation.

Ryoma claimed that, fast, decisive, opportunistic, charging, breaking through the crowd, slashing them down quickly, demolishing whatever they had perceived as a defence.

As he gained ground Yumi advanced, spinning her blade, opening the terrain, attempting to support the ronin's straightforward strikes with her winding, spiralling wide style, deciding to have his back, keeping him protected as the men closed around them, their shorter weapons keeping them from striking one another by accident.

They wanted to crowd them, to box them.

Through the movements, through combat, they caught each other's eye, falling into step, at first faltering, hesitating, letting a few of those men get a few attacks in as their heartbeats and breathing synchronized, blades almost catching the wrong target as they attempted to harmonize.

Back to back.

The nagamaki moved defensively, taking the katana's place as it strike was done, pushing away whoever took the place of the fallen, whoever tried to target the ronin. Ryoma's back was warm and strong. He was moving with her, making sure there were no openings for the brigands to strike at her.

His slashes pushed outwards as she spun in the following, both ending up in a spiral, carving their way out and in, giving no quarter, no chance of defence. Those who wanted to run were allowed to do so. Those that pressed against their matched strengths were dead.

Their breathing was hard, panting as they stood amidst the fallen. Numbers had done nothing. They did not know if there were more, waiting. They didn't know if the sounds had alerted whoever could be lurking.

Yumi turned slightly, putting a bit of distance between their bodies, gulping, throat dry, staring at Ryoma, lowering her weapon, holding it on one hand, sighing, lowering her head. He seemed as winded as she was, tilting his head, foreheads touching.

Ryoma reached up, taking her hood away, cupping her face, watching her eyes.

The night was cold. Vapour formed as they breathed out, the white plumes brushing each other's lips.

Her gloved palm flattened itself against the ronin's chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat, knowing hers was no better.

From combat.

From merging into a single fighting unity.

From victory.

Eyes closing for a moment, the next pant coming out shaking, Yumi stepped a bit closer. It was warmer there, where he touched. When she was able to see again, eyes opening cautiously, slowly she found his focus on her lips, parted to accommodate the rapid breathing. And she found herself doing the same, eyes gazing downwards.

The horses neighed.

Ryoma stepped back, reddening, looking at his weapon, at her, turning his back, coughing, trying to clear the blood away from the blade, fidgeting.

Mortified by her actions Yumi turned her back too, covering her face with her hand.

"We… should move out." He croaked out after a moment.

"No sense in staying near corpses." Yumi agreed in a wheezing voice.


	15. Chapter 15

Sojiro stared in disgust at the maps, at the reports and at the men that supported his rule and aided the daily administration of the province. There were glaringly empty spots in the semicircle kneeling in front of him.

Things were degenerating fast.

Decaying.

The balance had been lost.

The bandits still plagued his rule. Circling like scavengers, taking away his support bit by bit. Like vermin that could not be fully eliminated because Sojiro could not find its nest, the origin of their infestation. He knew some were old loyalists. Like that Tadao. His corpse had never been found and he was sure he had seen him walking through the smoke and flame, calling for his lord.

That was dangerous enough.

Grudges had been made and years had undoubtedly fuelled it. And now they ran amok, mocking everything he had strived to keep, fully revealing the extent of their reach and forcing a revolt on the people that had so far cowered before his men.

Fights broke out in every area of the province. His actions were limited. If he sent the soldiers against the people the situation could not possibly be dressed up to show that it had been necessary. Not with the grave misstep they had taken in an attempt to keep control and strengthen the ties to those in power.

The ronin was gone and that meant the attention Oshu gave his domain was sharpened. They had lent part of the help requested and it now had all the appearances of having been squandered.

At first he had thought the man dead.

That would be bad but not too harmful.

Sojiro could chalk that up to the outsider's incompetence and demand troops.

Could even use his death as a banner of just how dangerous those people were.

Reports days later had shattered that hope and use.

The ronin had joined with the bandits and was on the run with a member. No doubt they would go to the One-Eyed Dragon. Tadao would have fed the upstart with stories of his deeds to relay. And as that Ryoma had been presented as someone who had their trust and ear he would be the one favoured by the ruler.

Maki was gone. No need to get him back. By now he had talked. Some of the attacks would not have been orchestrated as they were if his advisor had kept his mouth shut. He was forsaken and forfeit. Sojiro had no use for such a liability now.

The troops that had been spread out had to be reorganized. Against his main general the lord rearranged all of the garrisons to the borders, leaving the interior to fend for itself. Except, of course the soldiers that were to protect him and the core of his power. Pathetically desperate of a strategy but it was one of the few moves he had left.

Still no harm in preparing for more.

How to keep his power…

How to control a Dragon if the rats escaped his province…

Family was his answer.

Family was a weakness he had exploited before. Sion had been distracted by his dead son, abandoning the fight to reach his other brats and wife. Easier to cut down a man whose back was turned. The old man had been driven mad by the loss of his family.

No use going after the One-Eyed Dragon's wife. She was dangerous on her own.

But there was just one child.

* * *

There were paths were the horses could not be ridden. There were stretches of rock that could only be crossed by horse. And for two days there had been no places to stop for more than a couple of hours. No signs of pursuit. But exhaustion was starting to take its toll. Sleep, food, rest… they seems secondary to their goal although more needed. Their goal was so close.

Yumi stopped and dismounted, looking down, away. Troops seemed to be moving on the horizon.

Ryoma joined her, staring at the same point.

They had barely talked. At first it was uncomfortable. There was just something that was caught in their minds but unable to be voiced. Then it just became part of the day. _Later_. Yumi thought. When they were safely away from that place, when everything had been dealt with. When… Actually she didn't know when that would be. What would come next? What could come next?

"Do we need to hurry?" She asked, looking away from the distance, to the man next to her.

"Perhaps." He nodded. "We will have to fight our way through in the end. They are closing us in."

"Can we signal someone?"

"Are you willing to trust someone?"

"If…" Yumi hesitated. Then she relented. "If they have your trust."

Ryoma watched her and gripped her wrist, waiting for her hand to close around his too.

"Then let's find a place to rest." He advised, promise made.


	16. Chapter 16

The narrow path they had aimed for as their way out of the province was blocked by soldiers. A temporary camp. A few patrols along the edge of the chasm and stationed at the widest part of the gorge. Smoke rose from the campfires, carelessly giving out their position. The sounds of metal, armours, men and animals echoed on the stone walls.

Heavily guarded was a bit unexpected after witnessing the amount of patrols they had bypassed, outrun and fought. But it didn't look like they had been stationed there long. A change in strategy, then, something that happened in the last few days. Yumi had suspected when the signs of smoke had shifted, carried by the wind. Ryoma had agreed that the possibility was strong.

Instead of giving chase they were attempting to box them in, cut off the escape at the borders.

No matter.

It was fairly certain that their message had been delivered.

They just had to breach the wall of men and enter the next province.

Reinforcements and protection should be assured and any pursuit seen as an act of war.

* * *

The horses breached easily through the men that scrambled to create a yari wall, their calls to arms futile against the speed of the beasts and the overall unpreparedness. They hadn't been expecting the escape to be made through the mountains, no matter what their orders stated. They found a place where the spears were not held too high or firmly, pushing them aside along with their wielders.

Cutting a path hard and fast seemed like the best strategy to take, using the horses to their full potential. An army behind them to widen and keep the pressure on the opened way would be ideal but as they did not possess that luxury speed, brute force and luck would have to do. Kojuro has seen enough of Yumi's riding through those days to know she would be able to keep up, if not match evenly. With enough of any of those attributes there was a chance, a small chance but still a chance that there would be no need to draw their blades.

Yumi speared the charge, low against the animal's back, weapon sheathed, guiding the horse without hesitation or a tremble, scrutinizing paths under her hood, pushing the horse to the areas of least resistance. Her earlier agitation was calmed, crystallised as determination to plod through the battlefield.

Kojuro followed, leading his horse on a zig-zagging path, keeping the rear clear as the front parted. Too much delay on his movement and they could end up parted and surrounded. But he was not worried.

Tents were trampled, falling apart.

Fires started, coals scattered.

Soldiers started to gather in a semblance of strategy.

They were acting as a plug, filling the path, shoulder to shoulder, blades bared.

Archers got higher ground. Unlike the others as soon as their charge had started they had reached for their bows, running to keep up and take position.

Flares were shot into the air, exploding with loud bands and bright white light.

Reinforcements were being called.

The horse reared, turning to the left, avoiding a sudden wall of fire of spilled oil and campfire, twitching nervously, spooked. Yumi pulled the reins a few times before dismounting, slapping its rump, sending the beast away.

Its retreat opened a new path she took advantage of, unsheathing the nagamaki circling her way through. She had no horse now but Ryoma should help. And off the horse it was easier to slice down incoming projectiles.

Momentum broken and the soldiers caught up, attempting to box them in.

Kojuro stood in the way, katana free, fighting on horseback, reaching Yumi, stopping the horse long enough for her to mount, turning to keep advancing.

The end of the gorge was close.

A couple of crowded twists away.

A couple dozen of men.

Arrows falling, following the horse's path.

Yumi was grabbing onto his back with one hand, swinging the blade to defend them against pursuers and projectiles.

* * *

Saki pulled the last clasp of her claws, moving her fingers, watching them flex as smoothly as ever. They were ready.

The kunoichi stood up peeking at the sky once more.

Kojuro tended to use dusk in that kind of strategy.

Enough light to see where to go and plan a path and soon not enough light for archers to be able to shoot straight. Also it was a time where dinner was being prepared and the camp was a bit more relaxed.

Night and day were trusted dualities.

Night was for sneaking, day was for fighting, most soldiers would think.

Especially soldiers that had not been in a war.

A flare exploded.

"It seems they are in need of reinforcements." She turned to Masamune.

"Then we should help «you see»." The One-Eyed Dragon chuckled, putting the blades he had been taking of in their sheaths.

Saki nodded and shadowed.

Masamune mounted and headed to the fight.


	17. Chapter 17

The arrows had stopped raining. Too dark for that. Friendly fire was also an issue for them. Good to see a shred of decency left in them despite the harsh orders they were bound to obey.

The moonlight and the fires gave just enough flickering light to see where to go, what to do. Parts of the way were cut off by the flames. Soldiers shouted in fear, forgetting the targets, trying to put out the spots of inferno before they spread. While it thinned their numbers it was not by enough.

They were like a blade trapped between the anvil and the hammer.

A solid wall of soldiers in their way.

Waves of reinforcements from the back.

More surely waited beyond, into the edge of the border, as far as Sojiro could send them to the next province and not be caught or blamed for it.

Yumi tilted on horseback, still holding Ryoma's shirt, arm behind her back, pulling on it, swinging the blade in as wide as arch as she could, keeping from circling, facing the horse's tail and the ones that gave chase, protecting the rear as best she could.

Ryoma withstood the pulls and pushes along with the horse's movement, responding to her tugs, getting them into position while searching, pushing through..

Adjusting her fighting style to a horse guided by someone else was a bit harder than she had expecting.

The nagamaki was not meant for a one-handed hold, making control an issue, turning the blade she usually spiralled with ease, heavier, clumsier.

Slashing through the air as the horse swerved to the right Yumi caught the hooks that tried to pull them from the animal's back as it turned, getting low.

They lost their blades, hafts broken by the impact and momentum.

A few were wounded, stepping back.

The ones waiting to press on hesitated.

The dead heaped on the stone.

To advance they had to step on the fallen.

It also produced fear and hesitation on their enemy.

Neighing the horse turned in a tight circle, slowly, slamming hooves hard, almost drumming a rhythm, giving them a view of the narrow battlefield without leaving them vulnerable to a sneak attack.

Ryoma glared down those that surrounded them, shouting, inciting the beast into a sprint, breaching through yet another barrier of armed men, taking his own blade out of the sheath, swinging to the left, twisting to allow Yumi to strike from the right, almost off the horse's back, pulling her upright in the next evasion.

They scattered like leaves, attempting to avoid the stomping hooves and the stampeding advance.

Yumi took a deep breath, forcing herself from glancing over her shoulder, simply responding to the needs of combat. He wouldn't let her fall.

A crackling gravely sound from above gave away a trap.

Rock poured from the edges of the chasm.

Screams echoed, shocking against the walls, reverberating.

Ryoma pulled the reins, controlling the spooked animal, guiding him away.

Nagamaki slashing through the air Yumi took control, letting go of the running, taking a sturdier grip on the nagamaki. Earth and rock were stubborn. And they would answer to her and by the spirits and gods they would do so even if she was not in contact with the ground.

The blade slashed through the rocky walls, rumbling, the horse running parallel to the straight rises of stone, outrunning the falling debris that was falling on their own troops more than on the enemies they target.

Earth answered to her strike, rumbling, cracking, crashing.

Lines broke, chase slackened.

The path behind them was sealed.

Ryoma chuckled, manoeuvring through stunned men.

Yumi panted, sheathing the blade, turning on the horse's back, leaning against him, hesitating before her arms surrounded his waist, exhausted.

A last dash, a bid for freedom.

A breach to exploit.

He could handle it.

An abrupt halt shook Yumi, her eyes opening, startled, looking around.

The Ronin had stopped, turning around, staring at the incoming men.

The panting horse shook its head, standing his ground.

Less than thirty men that had managed to stay that side of the barrier, had attempted to block their path and had to back away from the charge. They had not given up, chasing when stopping them was impossible.

They were now looking around in fear.

Soldiers were fallen all around them, the path cleared.

"Good job." A man in blue armour chuckled, complimenting, standing at the centre of the slaughter, blades drawn. Besides him a small woman sighed, looking up, around with sharp eyes, nodding for Ryoma as they walked towards him, flanking the horse, appraising what was left of the enemy.

Yumi stared.

One eye…

Her arms tightened around Ryoma.

"Head to the shelter. The path is marked." The woman said in a soft voice.

Ryoma nodded back, turning away as the warrior in blue stepped forth and sheathed his weapons, glaring the soldiers down, scoffing and grinning.

"Any of you want to fight the One-Eyed Dragon?" Date Masamune called out. The soldiers stepped back with no way to retreat. Frightened. "Go back to your master and tell him he just got a war in his hands «you see»." It was not formal but it was the first step. It was more than she had hoped.

The challenge rang on Yumi's ears as they followed the shadowed trail.

Kojuro covered her hands, crossed around his stomach, with his own.

"I told you." He whispered, feeling her nod against his back.

A few days. It had been enough for them to come to trust each other.

It was unfortunate that all that would be shattered as soon as he started to speak with Masamune-sama.

He had no hopes for forgiveness from Yumi.

Kojuro's hand twitched, gripping her harder, jaw clenching.

That was a lie.

With some luck most of it could be settled in a duel and that barely audible thank you muttered warmly against his back would not turn into venom.

He had a bit of wistful thinking.

But it had been a lie.

A false name.

A betrayal.

Trust built on misdirection.


	18. Chapter 18

Katakura Kojuro.

Unlike Ryoma that name was widely known.

Name, deeds, allegiances…

There had been no ronin.

The one that Yumi had come to trust was a lie.

Alone, staring into the dawn the warrior sighed, head lowering as the light moved slowly through the sky, burnishing the peaks around the shinobi haven, hidden within her hood. The realization was harsh. Curling around her weapon she breathed slowly, eyes closing. Was it safe…

The name… the attempt to empty and calm her mind broke once more.

It was echoing in Yumi's mind from the moment the One-Eyed Dragon had chosen to use it as he explained the chain of events that had led to the situation and the options open to them at the moment.

The Dragon had stopped talking for a moment, waiting, watching, his one eye fixed and cunning. The sudden smile had seemed off, out of place. Saki had looked from her to Kojuro, her eyes narrowing slightly and then widening as the Right-Eye of the Dragon refused to raise his head, staring at the floor.

Yumi listened to what he had to say, acting like she had been thought. Hear. Appraise. Hide the thoughts and emotions. Even if all else was a lie Ry… Katakura… had kept the most central part of his promise. He had brought the attention of the Dragons and the possibility of freeing her father and grandfather's province.

The rest was unimportant.

It had to be.

A shaky breath left her lips as those few days came back to her mind. It pained her. What to believe, what to think. If it had all been a lie. If it had all been truth. What she had thought… that it had been her somehow. Maybe it had just been her.

"It was my order." The Dragon's Shadow spoke up softly, announcing her presence. Yumi looked up, startled, hand closing around the nagamaki. That small woman barely seemed to match her reputation at a glance. But those grey eyes were hard to miss or avoid as soon as they captured they prey. Without taking heed of the weapon she knelt down. "More of a request in all honesty. Kojuro is a hard man to order about."

"I understand the necessity for secrecy." Yumi answered with a bitter tone, staring ahead once again.

"That does not mean it hurts any less." The kunoichi slashed down the issue immediately, giving no time to skirt the matter. "Especially given your history. You feel hurt. Betrayed. Vulnerable. Wondering if those that gained your trust in years before were not false in their words, actions and intentions." Yumi kept her silence. She was right. Saki chuckled. "And you were also feeling attracted to him to complicate matters further."

"How…" Startled the word escaped. Yumi covered her mouth, looking down even more determined to keep her face hidden.

"It's what I do. I watch and read people. You were guarded, careful. Before his actual name was revealed you were glancing at him slightly, sneakily, trusting that he had steered you right. There was thankfulness there. Warmth. Kojuro is very easy to love. After you move past the harsh look."

"Why…"

"I owe him a great deal. Most recently because of an incident in his field involving my son, my cousin and smoke bombs with too much gunpowder." A chuckle left her lips before her face became serious once more. "It was the details of the mission I gave him that created this rift."

"He lied. He got close to me and… It was a betrayal. " Yumi stated, avoiding the obvious question about gunpowder.

"That is where you glances became vacant, shocked. Kojuro looked down. He is ashamed, hurting too. He did what was right, what his loyalty required and yet he did not want to hide what he needed from you. At least not anymore. But you don't look like you grew to hate him. Just disappointed and skittish." Saki continued. "A name and a rank were all the lies he told in my understanding." The shinobi stood. "This will not make much sense at the moment but my Dragon said something interesting. _He looks at her like one of his leeks_."

Yumi looked up with a blank expression as the sun was able to sneak into her hood.

"Go rest. We'll need at least a month go gather the right army and supplies for this liberation." Saki smiled softly. "Plenty of time for this to be cleared. You might want to pummel him down first as some sort of punishment. As you are not his lord he may not be tempted to take his life to atone but he is very likely to need a punch or two before moving on. I needed to be duped at my own game to be able to…"

"I don't understand." Yumi mumbled. Confusion was clouding the pained feelings that had swirled in her chest. But it was lighter, easier to bear.


	19. Chapter 19

Kojuro rode ahead leaving after a brief rest and a quick meal.

There was not much to be added to what had already been said and planned. And there was little his presence could do now but to widen that abrupt rift. His face was pretty much the one Yumi would be placing in the definition of backstabbing. Betrayal was already taken.

Trying to speak up at that time would only make matters worse. It would be seen as grovelling.

Anger and hurt clouded her mind at the moment, undoubtedly. He knew the vice gripping his own heart and conscience even if the effect was eased by the knowledge that it had been part of his duty.

A stronger man may have been immune to the attachment. Kojuro felt he hadn't bothered to resist. So what was left…

With his own clothes and name regained he crossed the mountain path and issued orders to the soldiers Masamune-Sama had brought and left by the borders. Shinobi carried the same messages to the arriving units. They didn't seem surprised to see him. Maybe they had been told on the way or the Right Eye of the Dragon appearing where the One-Eyed Dragon went was simply not worth of doubting or questioning.

It was very familiar ground. Giving orders. Watching the soldiers move out. Waiting for reports. On the move to survey and reinforce spots where conflict had happened or seemed likely.

The news of their escape and the challenge issued by the One-Eyed Dragon should reach Sojiro soon. Now they were meant to. A clear provocation should be enough with the kind of temperament their adversary exhibited. Like a child denied a toy the lordling would rage and lash out.

Kojuro would trust his men to keep it contained and Yumi's bandits to protect the people within.

If things had been clearer they would have simply moved in and deposed the traitor, dealing with the aftermath when it came. No need for deception, investigation or questioning. Right after the war they had done just that with a few provinces that had refused to let go of pernicious alliances or undue worship to the likes of Toyotomi. Right after the war they had been alert to those things. And that was possibly how Sojiro had learned to avoid detection even if his plot had begun much before the unification battles had raged and Oshu had been placed under Dragon protection.

However telling himself that he had left the house to act like the general he was did not diminish the sensation that he was simply avoiding another kind of confrontation.

"Katakura." Yumi approached on a borrowed horse. Her tone was cold and clipped but her hood was not up. "You are still to take me to Oshu." Kojuro lowered his head in a slight bow. If it was an offer of peace he would take it.

* * *

"You are telling everyone they are together." Saki's eyes narrowed as she caught her Dragon smiling, watching the bandit they deliver attempting to reach out to Kojuro and see if what they had started to share on the field was real. She had also noticed the snickering soldiers and approving glances and the murmurs starting to grow around the departure of the two.

"Payback." Masamune answered, stretching. It had been waiting for years. Mostly good-natured ribbing. "Why aren't you going after the guy's throat yet?"

"This kind of betrayal is best dealt with publically." The kunoichi answered, her claws piercing the note Fuma had sent. If that bastard thought targeting her son would make them back away he was sorely mistaken. "Why aren't you?" Failed attempt or not.

"I was thinking about a simple incursion. Now I've sent messengers." Masamune answered.

"Good." Saki sighed, climbing on his horse waiting for him.

"Are we keeping our distance from the lovebirds?" the One-Eyed Dragon asked, cradling her, the horse trotting away.

"Just enough." Saki answered.


	20. Chapter 20

Katakura Kojuro had not changed nor strayed far from who Ryoma had been.

Through the new stretch of the journey Yumi had been watching carefully, making sense of the situation once again, adjusting.

For some reason the One-Eyed Dragon and those he had brought with him delayed their departure. Securing the roads maybe. Saki had disappeared shortly after their talk. They were still alone together on the road.

Challenge after challenge, test after test he proved that the deceit had no effect on who he was and acted as. The man she had met, fought and travelled with remained himself regardless of the name. Some things on his demeanour were slightly different but that was to be expected if she considered the titles, the honours and upbringing. They had been there, beneath the surface.

It was strange.

It was like they were unable to speak if the subject was not practical.

It was like they had returned to the moment where she had brought the stranger into the camp trusting his intentions and orders but not his self.

And beyond that oddity were the growing feelings for the one who had rode and fought by her side for a chance to free her from the betrayal that had destroyed her life.

So things had not turned back fully.

It was not a stranger.

It would never be a stranger.

Even if Katakura was hiding under calm politeness, wishing for forgiveness without asking.

When he caught himself drawing near he stepped back.

When he sensed her confusion she caught glimpses of a hand stretching to comfort her and withdrawing in doubt.

Much like her. Yumi didn't know what to do with the tangle she was sorting. Some parts were clearing as the days passed and the borders approached. Others were put aside, quiet and still, raw and sensitive.

* * *

Oshu was as he had described, as Yumi wanted her province to become once more, a mix of possibilities and the memories she had of the land when her grandfather had ruled. Peaceful, prosperous, secure and justly ruled. It would come.

Those few days without the chase, without the fear, without the urgency had been enough to clear most of her doubts.

While the lie still pained her it was no longer a thorn.

It had had a purpose, one that caused her no harm.

But they still needed to sort it out.

And there was only a way she knew of to work through the painful tangles that lingered.

* * *

The challenge had garnered attention as soon as Yumi had issued it much to her surprise and discomfort.

Matches of blades and skill were common especially when former generals visited.

Yet the rumours swirling about the relationship between the participants were spicing up the interest.

Which explained the unexpected audience around the training grounds.

Most were soldiers, she could tell by the way they moved. Her men had been like that too, loud, easy to spot.

A few were older farmers. Men and women. Katakura seemed to be well liked by that part of the community as well.

A pale-haired woman sporting an arsenal at her hip was talking to Saki under the shade of a nearby tree.

A man with feathers on a long ponytail played with Saki's child. At least Yumi assumed he was hers. They had arrived together after all.

The shinobi were harder to spot amidst the crowd but as they were not actively trying to be hidden Yumi was fairly sure she had found all six present.

Yumi fidgeted, keeping the urge to pull her hood up away from her mind.

This was the only way of conveying what she meant and thought she could think of at the moment.

So many times had been said warriors talked through their swords…

* * *

A match did seem the easiest way to really get the truth across, Kojuro considered, tending to his garden, taking note of the plants ready for harvest and those that needed extra care because of his absence. The singed parts of the gunpowder accident were finally green again. Sighing deeply he stood, adjusting the daisho at his waist, glancing at the sky, turning away to meet the challenge.


	21. Chapter 21

They had fought before. It had been fast, aggressive and merely a means to stall for time and clear the way. They had turned their blades towards the same enemy, with the same goal, battling through the obstacles that had cut into the path. For a warrior both situations were a source of understanding, of nuanced details. Their disposition, cunning, training, alertness, motives… all could be bared in a single motion or strike. Sometimes even the most guarded were unable to hide it all when battling, the selves seeping into the motions, the energy, the intent.

That was the core of Yumi's gamble.

Caution coloured their actions as they surveyed each other, blades bared, standing on the stone and dirt of the training grounds. Tension filled the air, the onlookers growing steadily quieter until they were silent, watching, seeing that there was more than a match.

If a strike was made they avoided it, barely leaving the basics. Impersonal, bare, rudimentary. Showing nothing. Like watching two apprentices in their first public match.

Kojuro sidestepped the slow curve of the attack, katana low, blade tip inclined towards the ground, eyes fixed on the woman in front of him, locked in his form, unresponsive at first, moving to riposte automatically but without follow through.

Yumi spun into deflections when needed, more responsive than aggressive, careful steady steps negating any gained ground. The nagamaki was held rather high, the tilted blade functioning as a shield. She stared back, just as unfocused.

Two stone walls would be more reactive to one another if they were ever pitted in a fight.

Masamune frowned slightly before grinning, leaning towards Saki, whispering. The shinobi nodded slightly, shadows moving beneath her sneakily, answering to the suggestion.

Defensive, self-conscious, reluctant to make the move, afraid the duel would crumble into animosity instead of aligning their bodies, minds and intentions. So they were overthinking every action and not making any progress. Actually they were sinking deeper into the chasm.

A pebble didn't seem much.

Yet a little strike in the right place jolted the frayed instincts into reacting.

Kazuya giggled as he was allowed to toss a handful too. His throws almost reached the targets but were not quite steady. Saki smiled, petting the child's head.

Both flinched when struck, more startled than pained, managing to hide it in an instant. The response of two trained warriors was immediate despite the cover up, registering the minute movements as a weakness before they remembered what and where.

A fast charge, unimpeded, covering the stalemate with instinctive action, aim and resolve, hinged in that single moment. Five steps was all it took them to clash, her momentum built with the blade's movement along with the advance, his gained through stillness and control.

Blades clashed, hissing.

Yumi's spiralling movement pushed the stubborn diagonal slash aside, curving for completion as she rid herself of the threat, moving in for a strike, seizing the forced opening.

The second half of the daisho stopped that attempt with an awkward right handed block as Kojuro followed the forced motion of his left weapon.

Brought to a standstill of locked blades and tangled limbs they glared and grimaced, breathing hard, looking for a way to keep moving. There was a shiver in the blades, quick heartbeat, sharp intakes of air through parted lips.

They broke apart abruptly, metal hissing, heavy steps echoing.

It was a short separation followed by Kojuro's charge.

The nagamaki was pulled down, deflecting him and the strike, as Yumi claimed the moment, stepping into his space, pushing him aside with a hard jab of her fist, moving the weapon circling it up, redirecting his strike.

Following through the motion Kojuro was able to bring it back to his advantage, katana and wakizashi crossing to pin the opponent in place, once more testing their strengths, feet digging into the ground, looking for leverage.

Murmurs slid through the crowd. Coins clinked as they were exchanged.

Blood roaring, glee and battle lust overpowering the timid defence and careful approach.

In the stalemate they broke apart again, understanding the useless moment, before clashing.

A spiral brought them into a simple cross strike, leaving them in the balance of their blades, straining.

Whatever the move that was how they were ending. Locked, pushing, bullheadedly attempting to rush the adversary into the ground.

Eyes met abruptly in the struggle to win, the blades relaxing in recognition.

Disengaging, stepping away slowly brought focus back into their minds.

Yumi's lips parted slightly, tilting upwards as she sighed, head lowering, stepping back, nagamaki twirled into both hands, her grip steadying, stance widening, body lowering, ready to continue.

Kojuro smiled, wakizashi returning to its scabbard, katana adjusting, relaxing his shoulders, moving to the side.

The blades crossed one last time, the swing lazy and formal, just a light tap before they returned to their places and both bowed in recognition, leaving the duel in a draw.


	22. Chapter 22

It had been enough.

Yumi took a deep breath, adjusting the soft feminine kimono they had offered her. One of several along with repairs to the armour and a brand new set, tailored to her shape from the first cut. It had been a very long time since she had worn anything of that sort, since she had someone helping her with placing the fabric right and with her hair, from brushing to styling. Since she had been able to relax, without fear of a sudden attack. It felt strange. And also made her feel a twinge of guilt for those that waited back at the camps, in the province. Progress was quick but for those who waited it would never feel fast enough.

The moon was growing in the sky, its silvery light bathing the gardens. The golden glow of the candles and lamps spilled outwards, mingling on the edges of the engawa. Warm and cold. It was a pretty effect with the shadows that resulted from both. She sat down, looking up for an instant, eyes closing, savouring the wind and silence.

There had been a commotion hours ago when the naked Kazuya had evaded the nannies and the shinobi keeping him safe and ran naked through the corridors laughing joyfully. How a wobbly baby boy bouncing on tiny legs had been able to outrun them was hilarious. It had taken his mother's shadows to catch. The complaining wail had stopped when the one-eyed dragon had scooped him up, back into the bath.

A female servant brought a tray with a bottle of sake and cups, placing them near Yumi, a teasing tone used to assure her that that particular brew was Katakura's favourite. It was a rather warm remark. It made her wonder if her feelings were obvious or if everyone actually believed those wild rumours.

They were not entirely wrong. She mused, fidgeting as she was left alone, trying to order her thoughts, keeping from reaching the booze. It wouldn't look good start before...

"Has your heart settled?" Katakura approached slowly, responding to her request, coming from the household, hands inside the haori's sleeves, voice quiet, sitting down next to her, pouring. Yumi nodded, taking the cup. The fight had cleared what it could. There was a flash of recognition and appreciation crossing his features when he drank and recognized the taste.

"I placed my trust in your person and word. I now see no reason for that trust to be taken. I see no reason to change how we have come to understand each other." Yumi sighed and placed the cup down, reaching out to pat his shoulder. Her hand lingered.

"I see… thank you." Kojuro answered, holding it. The silence stretched companionably as they drank. He poured every time their cups were drained, until the small bottle was empty and their shoulders were touching, staring ahead. The household behind them was silent, the lights out for the night, leaving only to moonlight above.

"Where do we stand?" Yumi asked, cheeks warm, adjusting, sitting to face him. They were sitting too close she realized. But after an instant of propriety fighting familiarity she fell back against him, relaxing, draining what was left in her cup.

"There have been some losses and captures of those that followed you." Kojuro started. Those would have been inevitable. She nodded, knowing this too, calm. His arm moved behind her back, offering more support. "Our shinobi manage to free a few and keep the prisoners away from execution. Some are still fighting. Others were offered the chance to cross the border and join the forces that are already stationed there." Bolstering the numbers to a degree that was starting to intimidate the province lord.

"Sojiro did nothing against those at his door?" Yumi asked, frowning. It did not look like something the man would do even if his reaction should remain fairly secretive.

"A few raids. A few attacks. A lot of attempts at diplomacy after all failed."

"He is testing how the defences are set and how the soldiers react to a threat."

"It did not work." Kojuro took the cups away, returning them to the tray. "Our soldiers came from a war and trained for it long before it started. His men only have the training. No matter how good they are unprepared for most."

"I'd say those I lead were more experienced too. At least when it comes to covert attacks."

"While true it also means those fighting you are expecting that kind of approach. They can't adapt as fast as they wished."

"I saw so many arrivals in the last few days." Yumi changed the subject from the border and the fight to the preparations. Kojuro was silent for a while. The banners made it obvious who had come. They however did not explain why so many had answered to a small call.

"Sojiro attempted to strike at Date Masamune."

"What… how…" Yumi looked up, startled.

"The same way he broke you grandfather."

"The child…"

"In turn that allowed us to bring in more forces with a much clearer focus." Kojuro reassured her with a slight smile, as if he knew something more about it. Likely he did or was something relating to the long relation the men enjoyed. "We'll be leaving in one week if the weather holds."

"You seem sure of success." Yumi mentioned after another stretch of silence.

"We have to be." His shrug moved her slightly. Chuckling Kojuro readjusted. Yumi sat straighter despite still keeping her shoulder against his. "We can prepare for failure but that possibility has to be forgotten when you go to battle."

"Your focus should be on winning. Or at least not losing." Yumi completed, smiling. "After all happened I was given the same lesson." Sighing she looked up. "It will be over soon."

"What comes next then?" The Right Eye of the Dragon asked, curious, responding to the hopeful, wistful tone of her voice.

"I am sure it does not surprise you if I said I have no plans." Yumi replied bitterly, looking down, staring at her hands. Time had been scarce for daydreaming or ambitions other than defeating the traitor.

"It does actually." Kojuro smiled. He understood why but it was surprising. A goal was well and good but the goal was not the end. How one handled what came next was the actual objective of living. Something always came next.

"You had plans?" She asked, curious. He was someone who had had a goal and helped his lord obtain it. And now he was living in that after.

"To serve my lord." That was a promise that would always be kept, not an actual goal, more of an ongoing undertaking. "To come back home and see the land grow." Under Date Masamune's rule, of course but if the One-Eyed Dragon had decided on an alliance or saw others as worthy he would have followed the path his lord decided as long as he was sure it was worthy. "It was a simple plan. But it was all I needed."

"I have…" Yumi hesitated. "My family's name has been tainted and has to be removed from power. I am dead as who I was I. In any case I would not want to rule. The One-Eyed Dragon will say who he thinks should run things. Winning yes. A bit on what comes after too… but I haven't thought…"

The hesitation melted away as she glanced at Kojuro. Maybe there was something she wanted to try, a curiosity travel and combat had sharpened. Her heart beat oddly. It was not a plan but…there was just a bit of uncertainty as she closed the distance, pressing her lips to his, finding them warm, tasting the same as hers, the sake spiking hotter over the smooth lips. Yumi closed her eyes, head tilting, finding his hands on her waist, holding her steady. Somehow her arms were around his neck, pressing them closer. Close enough to feel his heartbeat against her chest. What she was doing registered a moment later.

Flustered Yumi pushed away, blushing violently.

Kojuro was staring, lips parted, also reddening.

"I am unsure if I should have done this or feel like this. I don't know if you feel the same. But… for once I was me without moving for a higher purpose. Forgive my forwardness…" She spoke fast, attempting to stand and retreat

"Yumi." Kojuro called her name simply, catching her wrist before she had a chance to jump up. "I would be honoured to offer you your goal and what comes after." There was something strange about seeing a man with such a stern face smiling so bashfully. Sighing, catching herself smiling too Yumi accepted the bargain approaching carefully, sitting down once again, hip to him, leaning against him, returning the embrace, watching the moon.


	23. Chapter 23

Preparations for war were indeed different from planning a raid or clearing an area for a longer-term camp. Everything had another scale, another measure, another method. Even similarities were not close enough to be truly compared.

Men, animals, weapons, armour and supplies. Those were the basics.

However planning, prepping, equipping and storing were something else altogether.

Animals were trained and introduced to one another. As part of the army they should be able to tell by scent if the other animal was part of the same herd, as they understood it. Not all the gathered warlords had the same way to train their mounts. It seemed that problem was resolved by simply acquainting the animals and going through basics once more. Some had saddles for battle. Others were simply used to carry people and lighter equipment. That opened room for heavier things to be taken on the ox carts. And made for a less tired group of soldiers to build camp for those that marched.

In the same way warriors bonded and trained to overcome the different schools of styles. Most were clearly familiar with one another. Like old friends meeting. They divided themselves by skills and specializations. The mounted forces from Kai seemed particularly fond of competing with the horsemen of Oshu. Spears for the front lines were exchanged and adjusted. Different lengths for different positions for greater effect. Most were brand new. The effect of a training line of the field was startling.

Sparring matches sprouted here and there. The One-Eyed Dragon seemed involved in a lot of them, most often with a young man with a long ponytail clad in red or a white haired man with an odd anchor-like weapon.

Forges and craftsman were busy day in and day out to outfit the army. Some didn't need more than minor repair to old weapons and armours that had stayed a year out of commission. Others wanted something new made or a piece improved. Those that came from other provinces had already met those needs. If they searched for a craftsman in Oshu was because something new had needed their attention.

Storage of food was ongoing and tightly protected, monitored as closely as the gunpowder supply. Baskets, containers, water, grain, fresh produce, dried meat… adding to that preparation for survival were the maps and routes for resupplying the forces.

Maps were drawn and examined. Shinobi, strategists and generals poured their knowledge and skills, planning for every scenario they could imagine. Meetings and updates were almost hourly. Saki seemed to always be the centre of those along with Kojuro.

Yumi was invited to most of those activities. Soldiers and generals asked to spar. Her opinion and input was asked on the terrain and likely hideouts or strongholds Sojiro could take or reinforce for his own use. Notes and lists of her bandits arrived, reassuring her that they were still alive and fighting, some asking for assistance here and there, contributing to the planning effort with updates.

It was coming closer.

Kojuro had brought her new armour advising her to try it and put it through its paces while it still could be adjusted before leaving with a kiss on her forehead and a long embrace. And an embarrassed cough before letting her go, both red and nervous.

Neither Saki nor Date Masamune had objected to the engagement announcement. Actually Saki mentioned she was weaving the story into the reason to subjugate the province, using Yumi's past as reason and banner. That she was now bride-to-be of the Right Eye of the Dragon gave more strength to a claim of revenge and unfairness. She had also made clear that Kojuro would not be chosen to rule the province. Not because he lacked skills and now with her blood claim but because they agreed with Yumi's need to see the cycle broken, restoring the name through expunging the parasite and marrying the bloodline to make it secure. Perhaps her child could inherit the province under the Katakura name if he so wished or showed proficiency.

The armour had been made to resemble her old one. Unrestrictive. Leather, silk and metal. The shattered pieces of the old one had stayed away from the new gift. But their memory was carved into the edges of the leather, into the decorative pattern. The dark brown was uniform and polished. Gold glinted here and there along the steel. The clasps were new and solid. The joints were supple. There was no hood. There was no reason for it anymore… She had to be seen.

Picking up the nagamaki she headed out to make sure in the training grounds. After Kojuro has asked her to meet in the stables to select a mount suited for her. They would need to train together to be effective.


	24. Chapter 24

The march was made at what could be called a leisurely pace.

It was odd.

When Yumi heard about wars and armies there always seemed to be this urgency to the journey. Her experience was also made of fast rides to the target and a quick overpowering of the enemy before moving on.

This army moved as a whole even when divided, advancing to the target, mindful of the effort of men and animals while receiving reports. All the supplies were cared for and replenished when needed. If anyone showed signs of sickness they were left behind on the first village that could care for them instead of abandoned, executed or forced to go on. Animal or human.

The unfurled banners seemed to gather a crowd and volunteers as they passed. That was not the result of a war for dominion. That was the result of the effort and care put on rebuilding the torn nation. It was a testament to the Dragon's will and skill.

The province was under siege.

While it seemed foolish to do so at that scale it was proving fruitful due to the oppressive situation within and the offers of help from without.

Simple people, the commoners, craftsmen, farmers, were allowed to pass the borders, offered a safe place to stay in the neighbouring villages in exchange for services and promised the ability to return and resettle as soon as the fight was over.

Spies were quickly weeded out.

Deserters were not that uncommon either and came with information about the stronghold where Sojiro had hoarded food, allies, weapons and soldiers.

Commerce had dried. No merchants meant that there was no way to have supplies of any kind other than what they already possessed and with the swindling populace there was no way the harvest could be made.

For now the strategy was simply to advance and circle, keeping the pressure, the choking hold, to the breaking point, taking the territory and securing it thoroughly, allowing it to flourish once more.

Could take a while and would affect morale on both sides. Maybe not too much time considering the size of the amassed forces and the general disorganization in the province in favour of defending a single man. Most likely they would face little resistance until the fortress was reached.

Sojiro would not withstand too much discomfort. He had no way to reach for potential allies. He had backed himself into a corner but thought he was safe and able to weather the attack. That the One-Eyed dragon would just give up on his turtle strategy after a few strikes.

Saki was vague in saying months.

Less if it was covert but they needed the overthrow to be as public and known as possible for the sake of discouraging future upstarts. She also mumbled something about making him fear his own shadows but that may have been Yumi's imagination.


	25. Chapter 25

On arrival to one of the border camps the scouts that had been there, inactive, were deployed almost immediately along with the shinobi. The ones that had followed the army would have as long as it took them to return to rest. The cavalries would depart along with them, sweeping the province, closing the siege, followed by the soldiers. Takeda's heavy cavalry would play a supporting role to Date's light and mobile units, creating a disorienting pattern with one attack and locking them in the conflict with the other's advance. Supported then by the soldiers on foot it would help guide conflicts to the most advantageous areas while keeping the civilians out of the way.

Lighter war machines were being assembled, ready to be moved. Chosokabe Motochika's inventions joined and powered some, under the man's supervision. He barely had arrived and was already making the round and ready to go to the next camp, and the next, and the next to do the same.

There were less people in the group than when they had started. Units had broken away in the roads to go to other camps, bulking numbers and skills.

Timing was essential as the ring had to move roughly at the same pace. But the shinobi would give the signs as the fastest members of any of the groups and also those able to communicate stealthily through the distances.

Yumi walked around, watching and listening, watching. Not one of those that had seen war seemed concerned or frightened. She was growing restless, feeling her chest tight and heartbeat sharp. Excitement, hope, fear. The challenge was being met.

"You seem overwhelmed." Kojuro stated, approaching, standing by her side.

"I am. Haven't you ever felt like that?" Yumi nodded.

"When we began, yes." The Right Eye of the Dragon admitted. "Everything was untested, different. Masamune-sama was untested, reckless. And what I knew had never been challenged either." He smiled slightly, the expression crossing his lips and vanishing, allowing only her to glimpse it. "Come. At this time only those that are assembling, repairing or building have to stay focused. We can rest. It had been a long journey and it won't be long until we have to be on the move once more."

"So what does an army do when there is a lull in battle?" Yumi asked, following. She saw gambling, drinking, eating and dancing. Some were telling stories. Others were bragging about weapons and armour. Not even a handful ere training. From the preparations to the field it looked as if all had grown lax.

"Seek entertainment." Kojuro answered. "Training would tire them. The tasks that need to be done to be ready for combat are done first though." he stopped to answer a toast, gulping the sake and nodding. "Not one of these men would be caught off guard."

"We trained and moved constantly. Very few moments were not focused on surviving or escaping." Yumi commented. "If we had booze it was either a gift or stolen."

"How much can you drink?"

Yumi hesitated for a moment, watching him before allowing the challenge to make her smile.

"Let's find out."

* * *

There was a commotion in the camp.

Yumi sat up, out of her armour, blinking, looking around. Alone… Calmed by that she sighed.

In the end they hadn't drunk that much but the evening had been spent companionably, celebrating the arrival of the boss and settling bets through cups.

The noise was disturbing though, she thought, getting up, looking.

A group of familiar faces was arguing with Kojuro in angry voices a few feet away from her tent.

"Everyone…" Yumi called out, voice stern, silencing her outlaw group. Kojuro lowered his head to her, stepping back, letting her retake the leading role to the people that had gathered first to fight against the injustice the ruler had not known about. "You should not be this angry because of a name, especially because you know what has been done to mine." Relief coloured their faces. Smiles sprouted here and there. "He did bring us the support he promised…" Her eyes narrowed slowly as she counted, recognizing each by name, keeping her voice from trembling before asking. "Where is Tadao?"


	26. Chapter 26

Grief had no place on the field. At least not when it came to indulging in it. Or simply giving into it. Mourning could only be indulged after the battle. And even then there was a balance to be kept between losses, morale and drive. Victory made grief easier to bear, made it feel like the loss had had a meaning, a purpose, that the souls of the fallen had remained to aid the ones that fought on. To carry their blades and will, to free them after achieving the goal.

Kojuro watched as Yumi talked to her men, listening to their story and how Tadao had stayed behind to ensure the others escaped.

 _Missing_.

They insisted on that.

Lingering hope.

As long as it did not distract the ones that nurtured it from their objective it was not a bad thing to have. She was showing very little beyond the leader she had been to them, talking about the plan, asking a few passing soldiers to organize a place for them to stay and to show them where they would fit in best.

There was a deep sigh when they vanished into the camp. Yumi couldn't keep it in. Even her shoulders slumped slightly, eyes closing. Her hands almost reached, up, looking for the hood that was no longer there. That she was able to stop before it showed.

Tadao had made all that possible by ensuring she survived the treachery in the first place. If he was still alive he would be fighting. If he had been captured they would find him. If he had fallen his spirit would be with them in the push to displace Sojiro.

However it didn't feel bad when Kojuro placed his arms around her, offering comfort. It didn't feel awkward or strange even if others were looking. It grew a bit embarrassing when the shout of the One-Eyed Dragon for them to kiss made Saki laugh. Judging by the red covering Kojuro's face she wasn't the only one affected by the sudden butting in.

Even if her resolve had been unshaken that did help to lighten the burden.


	27. Chapter 27

Receiving the news they had been waiting for changed the whole demeanour of the camp and the army's actions. The relaxed pattern of preparation was gone. Messengers were deployed to make sure all the camps new they had to move out. The tension became a fevered pitch and then everything grew to the intensity of the stories and legends of war. In less than three hours the bulk of the forces were mounted and moving out.

Fast.

Driven.

Relentless

An army of horses and men charging through the fields.

Setting aside everything but the desire for victory Yumi rode with them, steeled for the battles ahead, resuming the mantle of the leader and warrior, spearheading the charge, having a place with the One-Eyed Dragon.

* * *

An enemy outpost fell to them, its doors opened from within. A shinobi's work no doubt. Ammunition seemed to be missing as well, whether arrows, black powder and bullets. A quick fight, a handful of dead men on foot against the mounted troops before the surrender sounded. The soldier's loyalty was weakening. They had been treated no better than the commoners. Some were farmers, forcefully drafted in a last ditch attempt to bulk the forces.

* * *

A village fell into their grasp not long after, the battle shortened by the people that inhabited it. The soldiers belonged to a minor lord, inhabiting a small fortress. They retreated as soon as the tide changed, as soon as the forces on foot that supported the riders started to close in, returning to their lord.

Those left behind served a dual purpose, aiding the villagers re-establish a prosperous community and keeping Sojiro's ally and one of the sources of food to his hideout under siege.

* * *

There were groups lead by minor generals in search of power and prestige in the eyes of the man that had paid them enough to forget honour. In their pride and greed they roamed the province, setting defences and offensives.

A fight in the open terrain overwhelmed the untrained troops in a single swooping charge.

Yumi's bandits and experience gave them the upper hand in the ambushes and conflicts within the forest that cut their path.

* * *

Scouts were found, diverted or given false information.

The captures mounted.

A handful of those generals were caught or were being hunted.

* * *

It took the ring of the men allied to the One-Eyed dragon less than three days to reach and surround the fortress where Sojiro hid, a massive ring of people as far as the eye could see, trapping him in all directions. Even the fortress that her grandfathers had taken great pride in, a place that had been able to weather Oda and Toyotomi, built high, reinforced with stone and militarily experienced commanders and forces paled into a flimsy excuse of a haven.

Yumi stared ahead, taking in the sight in silence as the camp was set around and took a deep breath.

A short rest before the storm.

Let those within fear.


	28. Chapter 28

Yumi stared at the flames, nagamaki sheathed, balanced against her shoulders, fingers playing idly with the broken crests, back turned to the fortress, thinking, ignoring the camp around.

What planning could be done was done. She had used her memory to describe what she remembered of the fortress, of what had been done to it to reinforce the structure over the years. There was more to it now even if some of the new additions had been constructed in a hurry. Those would be easy to find as the ninja in the army infiltrated and searched.

The One-Eyed Dragon had made his challenge to the seemingly empty walls.

Protocol was being followed. Intimidation and a demand for surrender. The answer had been a request for time and discussion amongst the generals and the lord gathered within the walls. It was a lie, just an attempt to buy time. So they could have something within that would be effective in keeping an army away. And they might have the stock to last. But the fortress was surrounded and cut off. Most likely Sojiro was searching for a way to sneak through the warriors.

Saki ignored the warrior's idea of procedure and gathered her kind, vanishing from the camp altogether after the planning meeting. According to Kojuro she was going to make sure there were no surprises within. Maybe she would not kill the guards, warriors and minor lords but there would be crippling surprised hidden for the storming of those walls, traps, tricks, deception to minimize losses on their side and destroy the spirit of those within.

There was no running away.

They were only giving Sojiro the time needed for their own army to settle.

"This is what I asked..." Yumi whispered, trying to keep from feeling lost or overwhelmed. It was tiring to keep going through the same emotions, feeling the old hurts and hatreds come to the surface, bubbling and raging only to have to quiet them down for just a bit longer. To that it kept being added the reports and the count of the victims of the years after. And to it the hope and promise of a free future, of allowing herself to be away from that legacy. To think that all could have been realized in hours, days. To think it had been years before she even began to see a chance.

Standing Yumi sighed, shaking away the thoughts once more.

It never worked for more than a few minutes.

Wandering showed a different camp.

The crossroads that lead to the old yamajiro were blocked.

The hill where it rose and doge itself into was isolated.

The ditches that preceded the moat were both under watch and being bridged.

Machines and the traditional way worked well even if the progress was being slow as they waited for the answer. Behind and within the humungous toys Motochika had built were the parts needed for a speedy assemble, for a swift attack or response.

The village that had grown around the fortress was gone before they reached. Burnt patches of land were very clear as to what had happened. No doubt stolen, recruited and deprived of land.

The Saica had found places where their artillery would benefit the effort.

The horsemen were no longer of any use beyond patrolling. The fortress would be too small to storm on the animal. It would be an hindrance in those old narrow corridors.

"Doing the rounds?" Kojuro asked, finding Yumi standing on the stone edge of where the bridge had been, staring at the walls. Anyone could look or feel vulnerable in that position. Guns and bows could easily bridge the gap and reap her life. But she stood proud and defiant.

"I am ready." The answer came in an even, gruff tone. Then she turned away, walking to him. "And now? What does a warrior do now?"

"Rest." The Right Eye answered, tilting his head towards the tents. "I'll keep watch on you. You'll keep watch on me. If he is as cowardly as we believe there will be a few assassination attempts even before attempting negotiations."


	29. Chapter 29

Assassins sneaking into a camp to behead an army accompanied by saboteurs to ensure that the leaderless group would descend into chaos was a common enough practice. In sieges was to be expected as soon as the intentions were declared. A way to break free without fight or negotiation. Or to tip the negotiations in their favour through fear and intimidation if the army and the generals left alive were keen on the idea of avenging their lord.

Both roles could be accomplished by ninja.

Most of the times it was indeed a task given to them as they had the skill to do that and more.

Sojiro did not have the luxury of such support.

But so many armies before had not had that support but the soldiers, the warriors, the samurai had taken the role themselves and succeeded because their lord had needed it. No prolonged training or specific skills but accomplished the task nonetheless with determination.

But even with his forces, loyalists and drafted men…

Shinobi belonged to Oshu.

Even if their work remained largely mercenary to accept jobs that were clearly against the One-Eyed Dragon's interest was treason. And neither Saki nor the Celestial Mistress were lenient when it came to that. Nuke-nin were hunted down and eliminated more actively than in the past.

So the attempt Kojuro had predicted amounted to very little.

Soldiers trying to sneak into the camp, quickly spotted, noisy and disorganized, more thugs than anything. Common bandits would do a better job of an ambush even blinded by greed. Monkeys would surely do a better job but the idea of sending armed monkeys was a bit of an oddity… Even for an army with strange machines.

Some fuss gave them away, loud in their frustration at finding none of the targets, an alert given by Sarutobi illuminating the whole camp so everyone knew what would be happening and a quickly captured group surrounded by fast cavalry. They had thought any assassin would try to run. It was a short fight, more of a brawl if the strength of the sides was factored in. Sanada Yukimura seemed rather proud of his quick actions and quicker resolution. He had been tasked with patrolling the empty pavilion, the decoy, the place where a normal general would be.

Fresh information was given by one of the intimidated men. Saki had not seemed surprised. She was smiling. Later as they readied the request to be delivered she stated that her traps seemed to remain unfound. And for Kojuro to remind her to give a quick brief to the forces Yumi would be leading in.

A blow for the morale within walls as they saw the captures paraded, as they saw those who refused to surrender executed. Leniency could only be given to those that knew when it was time to lower weapons and accept defeat. And a very clear refusal to initiate any negotiation was given when the soldier the One-Eyed Dragon sent back was killed for being a messenger and daring to advise Sojiro to accept his punishment and let everyone else in the fortress be judged.

With that lack of politeness and protocol there was a quick agreement to simply get it over with.

* * *

Explosives, courtesy of Saica and Motochika dealt with the gates. It was easier than expected. Yumi watched, blade drawn resting across her shoulder. The reinforced wood splintered. Metal bent and blackened. Fires sprouted in the blast area. Sounds of panic, orders… positioning and prevention, traps triggered.

In the stunned aftershock the army surged in.

Confusion met them. Little resistance at first.

The explosion had taken lives. Those watching the field. Wall patrollers. Those who would stand ready in the entrance to spear the intruders. The wounded were immediately willing to surrender. Parts of the invading forces had been told to watch for that and send for shinobi.

More than a few dropped their weapons and deserted, running out and asking for protection, for forgiveness, for a chance. Drafted men, forced to fight. The breach and invasion meant freedom.

For those that remained loyal the battle had just begun and they were not willing to display cowardice.

Blood roaring, excitement mounting, the feeling of being unleashed in battle of being able to do something, of advancing. Yumi fought with determination, aiming for the corridors. It was what she had always done ever since this had started. Everytime they were able to enter a fortress, a residence, a household… take the head, take the leader, move ahead, hunt him, take him down and…

This time it was Sojiro, it was finally Sojiro.

Spiralling the blade cleaved her way and shoved aside the attackers.

Close… so close…

A glance back showed her allies.

Kojuro stood tall on the battle, moving through the men, giving orders when needed, securing the area. He looked at her and gestured to some of the troops to join her. He would follow as soon as he could. He had promised.

Nodding Yumi shouted her own instructions to the groups near her. If they could keep the battle flowing to the front gates few would notice that she was making her way deeper inside. Normally an army overwhelmed a fort by moving as one, surging, crushing, dominating and stopping to secure before continuing. But much like an assassin at a camp Yumi was after a single life.

Vengeance and justice were blurry at that time but now that she was in battle Yumi did not care for what she came as long as that man was dead.


	30. Chapter 30

"The combat has been stopped." Saki reported, surveying the battlefield. The massive force amassed was for stability and show. He had threatened the One-Eyed Dragon's child after all. If he had not pressed that particular sensitivity they would have taken the original plan. Elite forces, a small mobile army lead by Kojuro to enforce the rule in a quick strike. True the resolution was faster as it was playing out but as the forces and will of the enemy thinned it was verging on crushing. Verging on being Toyotomi. Masamune nodded, watching as well. The damage to the fortress was being contained. "The only thing left to do is for Yumi to reach the target and eliminate him. Have you decided who will be in charge yet?"

"Deserters and surrenders?" The One-Eyed Dragon asked, sidestepping the question. His wife smiled slightly, knowing why. Battlefield and ruling were things he liked to keep separate. The warring had shown him that much. Even if that particular ruling decision of removing a threat was being very heavy handed.

Ah well… they had been angry and encouraged by someone whose rage had been quieted for too long.

Also Saki suspected the times of peace were being a bit boring for the warriors.

Perhaps some sort of combat festival was in order after this to let loose, show off.

"I had the shinobi survey them as they were captured. Sojiro is not hiding amidst them." Cowards would not take their own lives too often. Most of the times all they though was surviving, running away.

"Perhaps he did not want to risk the gamble." Masamune considered.

"I find it strange that the thought he could best you." Saki sighed. "Maybe it was just arrogance but…"

"The first action he took when cornered was to go after Kazuya. It was what worked in his favour in the past." The One-Eyed Dragon scoffed. "True we would be more cautious if he had our son…"

"I would have murdered him without leaving even remains for Yumi to extract her revenge from." Saki stated. "But I should not forget that we were once the small upstart army against great odds. You believe you could not fail and you rarely did. It can be the same principle."

Overconfidence only worked when those supporting it were truly strong.

Otherwise all would crumble as they were watching now.

* * *

Yumi stopped in the now silent corridors deep within the fortress, looking ahead, looking back, taking a deep breath, calming herself. That deep inside there were traps, ways to keep intruders out as the family and the lord retreated to the safe rooms. Sojiro had no family. It would be only him and his generals. She had seen none of them in the courtyard. Or in the corridors she had fought through to reach the inner sanctums.

They had retreated there a few times as the conflict played around the province. Mother, father, grandfather… her brothers wanted to fight. Asking why. Why not join the fight, why stay neutral. She had listened without interest to the names, to the battles, to the strategies, practicing the koto in a corner with her mother, waiting as she should. So many of those names were now outside, supporting her effort.

Not the time.

There were two ways of deactivating the traps. From within and from without. She was neither fast nor agile enough to go through them as a shinobi would. It was unlikely Sojiro would allow her to pass for a duel. So her only choice was to head up, away from her target to the walls and find the hidden, guarded caches where the switches were. For messengers, for supplies to be given to the hidden family.

Twirling the nagamaki she returned it to its sheath, trying to remember where to go. Steps made her tense, retrieving the blade, turning, holding it, ready to attack.

"The fortress is taken." Kojuro announced as he approached. Nodding she returned the weapon to its rest.

"There are traps." Yumi said, glancing down.

"Saki should have dealt with them." The Right Eye of the dragon cautiously stepped into the corridor. The floor creaked but nothing was activated. No trap was spring even as he continued with a few more determined strides.

"Follow me then" Yumi mused, taking the lead. Too many corridors made sure to side-track and confuse those who were not familiar with the path. "How…"

"Over the years I learned not to question what she does and how." Kojuro answered, keeping his guard up. If that area had locked itself away from the encroaching force it meant the loyalists would be waiting. And for someone like Sojiro that meant keeping the strongest closest. "It is just done."

"You brought no reinforcements." She noted, turning right.

"We are enough to finish this. I will only keep those trying to interfere at bay."

"Does he remember me?" Yumi mused cautiously, going straight ahead.

"Perhaps. But he will know you in the end. And know why."


	31. Chapter 31

The small gates that secured the inner sanctum fell under the strike of blade and the rumbling of the very earth. Yumi took a deep breath, stepping back, moving the nagamaki back in a semicircle, controlling its motion, watching as the structure crumbled, listening. The rumbling stopped as she regained a neutral stance, waiting for further commands. Her grip on the weapon shifted along with her body, readying the charge.

Kojuro was behind her, weapons still in their sheath, waiting. There was also a subtle movement in his stance, a slight loosening and tension of a man ready to jump into action. Whether they would have to react fast or simply advance would be decided by whatever awaited.

The path behind them was cleared, empty.

There was noise beyond the once solid defences.

Shouts, orders.

An attempt to organize whatever forces they had packed there for the final stand.

Others would have made preparations for a ritual suicide to erase the defeat and the honourless actions that had led to it. That did not seem like the path those inside were taking.

They were all generals.

Supporters.

Soldiers. Some forced to fight. Others truly loyal to their leader and lord.

Sojiro.

They had to know that there would be a fight.

And so they were revealed to be ready, armed and armoured as the final barrier fell to the ground.

A wall of soldier wielding jumonji yari crowded the entrance of what should have been a wide rectangular room, cutting off the path for those behind them.

There had once been divisions for the cooking area and the bathing area. No longer. Partitions had been torn down to accommodate as much soldiers as could be packed in to defend Sojiro in the last moments of the fortress's storming.

There was no room for bows.

The guns had been tampered with. The barrage they tried to unleash as soon as she was in sight clicked and failed to ignite. Some exploded, wounding their wielders, sowing confusion in the line.

Behind the spears there were soldiers with katanas.

Behind them there were the leaders.

Yumi could see their faces even if the helmets were on. She recognized most of them from more than descriptions. Some were liars but all were traitors.

And in the end of the room, was the one she wanted, half hidden behind all the forces he could pack into the space, curled inside his armour.

"Do you know who I am?" Yumi growled, ready, focused on Sojiro, walking unflinchingly into the room, nagamaki moving into the ready stance, glancing around quickly, taking in the field. The wall of yari flinched. Some of the blades lowered, trembling. Glances were exchanged. Whispers moved through the ranks.

Maki Benkei was missing, now a prisoner of the One-Eyed Dragon. Not that he would have been of much use. He would have been hiding in the back. Perhaps even standing behind Sojiro. Not like the others.

Aichi Iemon had served as her Father's house guard. It was he who had weakened the response time of their guards and destabilized the resolve of some of them, convincing them to turn as Father was murdered and the house burned. Tadao had felt that it had been his failure. How could have he not seen what was happening with one of his men, one that was trusted?

Banno Hatsumo had done almost the same in her grandfather's household. Older, part of a family that had long been loyal retainers to the Hikawa bloodline… None of the tradition or past had kept him from breaking his vows and aiding in grandfather's decline and death.

Eisen Koya and Kashima Noriaki had been elevated to their position by their unflinching loyalty towards Sojiro. What she knew of them was little. Just that they had always stood by his side from the time he had appeared.

"Do you know who I am?" She called out again, stomping the floor, creating tremor, glaring, slashing her blade, deflecting the spear that attempted to advance, pointing to her target once more after the sweeping motion cleared the few that had dared to make their move.

The line retreated a few steps back, compacting, making up for the lost numbers.

"Hikawa Yumi." Sojiro murmured after a short tense, quiet pause. The generals looked from him to her. He remembered even if he had thought her dead. There was surprise and contempt in the name he spat out. There was the realization that she was the reason why everything was crumbling down around him, the lynchpin of the bandits, the resistance, the resolve of those that fought him. She was the reason for the army at his door.

"Fight me." Yumi challenged. "Just you and me." Still offering an honourable way out, even though the pain and hatred lurking in her eyes. Kojuro could approve. She wanted that duel even as she was prepared to eliminate everyone in the room to get to him.

Most would have taken the challenge.

Some would have surrendered.

Sojiro simply did what he had always done.

Ordered his army to deal with the matter.


	32. Chapter 32

Yumi didn't waste time with hesitation or doubt, moving before orders could be given to the group in charge of protecting her target.

Balance regained, surrender refused, enemies advancing.

There was no ambiguity in the situation. Just an objective.

The arching movement of the blade cleared a path, the swooping circular slice blocking and cutting through the yari blade and hafts, the curved steps moving her into the broken line. The rumble of the earth followed, making it harder for the men to find even footing as they tried to discard the useless guns for short blades.

Close quarters fighting was difficult for some weapons, for some styles.

Groups also felt the confinement and restrictions. More and more if disorder gripped the ranks.

Yumi had a different training, a different experience, a specialization that brewed creativity. She used the long blade and the wide spiralling movements to advance and push back, minimal effort to maximum effect, targeting multiple enemies instead of focusing the strikes.

Kojuro followed the opened path, stomping out attempts to strike her back, keeping the men that had not fallen from regrouping and attacking. The supporting role was something he had perfected over the years and even if her style differed greatly from Masamune-sama they had clashed and fought together enough to respond.

The spears could have charged. But the movements of the nagamaki had pushed the weapons aside, breaking the line, pushing the wielders against each other as she breached through. They were finding it very difficult to turn around and respond to the frantic shouts of their leaders. A few were dead. Others had chosen to just stand down, abandoning combat. Of the sixteen spear wielders five were crossing blades with Kojuro, kept from the next line.

Guns could have avoided the fight, killing her, leaving smoke and stench in their wake. But of course long range weapons, both handheld and siege breaking tools, had been tampered with. Saki would use pistols and ranged units such as the Saica, but she still bore a grudge against them. Truth be told Kojuro also had not forgotten their use by Akechi Mitsuhide. The kunoichi had made destroying the guns her first task when weakening the enemy. As the men tried to change from them to short blades Yumi gained ground, the shockwave of the earth's answer followed by a sweeping arch.

The assault diverted the enemies' strikes, blocks broken and parries denied. Yumi evaded attacks, circling the blade left in a full vertical circle as her body rotated, finding room in the retreating former ranged line, unleashing a wide assault with both hands, repeating the circular strike to the right, stopping one of the katana wielding warriors of the next defensive line, stopping her movement, locked with the blade, glancing around quickly, adjusting her grip.

Lightning followed Kojuro's charge as he swept through the ranks, blade replacing hers in the parry, pushing the warrior back as Yumi turned, cleaving the other man, dashing for her life, away, sidestepping the body as she swung the blade through the last line of soldiers, aiming for the generals.

Banno Hatsumo's nodachi was of similar length to her nagamaki but was more blade than the weapon Yumi wielded. It was more limited as well as the traditional style called for downward cuts. And  
Banno was indeed old. The eldest one there. His attack was direct and earnest. Two heavy steps. A down slice, heavy, ready to cleave a stationary adversary apart. Yumi did not try to block as another would. She pulled her nagamaki closer to her chest, twirling on her left foot to avoid the hit. The heavy blade sunk into the floor. The earth roared around it, trapping, answering to Yumi's stomping right foot as she stopped her motion, gained a new form and spun towards the stunned man, the long circling motion taking his neck, momentum carrying her into turning her back on his body and bouncing decapitated head, stance wide and low in the end.

A long sigh escaped her lips, effort and relief as she confronted the next one, grip shifting on the handle.

Eisen Koya was locked in combat with Kojuro, falling back fast as the diagonal slashes continued, punishing, finished by a quick thrust. The nagamaki moved in an odd way, straight through, right over the Right Eye of the Dragon's shoulder, finding its target on the chest of Aichi Iemon as he tried to strike at his unprotected back, breaking through armour and bone.

Yumi looked at Kojuro for a moment, finding amusement in his eyes as he sheathed his blade, assuming a ready draw stance, looking beyond her at the last of the enemies that were still willing to face them. Freeing her blade, turning her back on him, Yumi was also ready to continue.

Kashima Noriaki proved he was not as cowardly as his master. Better to die than be killed. As his soldiers and peers fell and the situation proved unwinnable and unnegotiable he had taken his own life, crumpled in a bloody heap before his lord.

Sojiro had not picked up a weapon. He was staring ahead, rage and hatred in his eyes as he surveyed the ruins of his plans. He did not say a word.

Yumi didn't either, advancing, holding the nagamaki, twirling it in one hand, shaking off the blood that coated the blade, standing in front of the man that had by all accounts tarnished her family's land and legacy. Hatred and anger was also in her eyes. Exhaustion. Sadness.

Kojuro straightened, waiting for her decision.

The hand on the hilt was steady.

The Nagamaki that was as part of the bloodline as her fell towards his neck, the usual curved strike fast, carrying fury and retribution.

The poisonous dart that was as devious as Sojiro's nature was tossed in a last, spiteful strike at the Hikawa's sinking into Yumi's neck. Yumi groaned, pulling the metal out of her. The toss had been weak, just a prickle.

Treason.

Why would it be different when facing his end.

The severed head fell with a grimace on its features, kicked away by the angered woman before she shouted, allowing the rage out, falling to her knees, letting go of the nagamaki, feeling the poison burn through her veins, dimming her perceptions.

Kojuro was shouting…

It was over, want's it…

It hurt no less…


	33. Chapter 33

There was a painful tightness around Yumi's neck. But it did not feel like a wound... a dart wouldn't affect such a large area. It was like everything around her throat was constricted. Dizzy, heavy and shivering Yumi opened her eyes, finding Saki by her side, making tea. The kunoichi smiled slightly, barely a twitch of her lips, glancing at her, signalling for silence, pouring hot water into the cup, leaving it to help the warrior woman sit, adjusting covers and pillows.

"The poison was not that strong. At least not when he used it. Too long left in the metal and air. A few more hours unused and you would not need an antidote to sweat it out." Saki explained, clearing her confusion, taking a stained silk pouch out of the hot water, placing it in a small bowl. "Still it will weaken you for a while. Drink." Carefully Yumi obeyed. It was hard to do through the choking bandages. She managed to sip the bitter mix of tea and medicine slowly, close to lapping it like a cub. "The man's lack of throwing skill is also something you can be thankful to. A little harder, a little to the right and your windpipe would be punctured. A little to the left and your artery would be severed. It struck deep enough to stick but not enough to do you too much harm." That explained the linen around her neck. Just a precaution. "Kojuro is outside, listening in." Amusement seeped into her voice. "Now he isn't."

Yumi breathed in slowly, piecing together what had happened.

It was over.

It was a rather foggy feeling, still indistinct.

Looking around she located her family's nagamki, staring at the worn weapon. Sighing was hard too even if the lump she was feeling in her throat had nothing to do with the bandaging. She didn't reach for it. There was no danger, not anymore. Her lips pressed tightly.

"We have found Fumiya Tadao."Saki continued speaking, taking the empty cup from her hands, placing it on a tray, next to the medicine. "He was heavily wounded from the fight the others described. He bought them time and then retreated into a cave made of tree roots." Alone in the forest, exposed to the elements and ailing. Yumi shivered. Her brother had not survived even with she and Tadao tending to him. "Yes. You do know that his state is not good but he was attempting to wait it out so he could rejoin the fight. We have been doing what we can and I'm sure you understand that he is still fighting. Either way he knows that your task, his promise, have been fulfilled." Yumi smiled slightly, nodding. Even if she could not see him right away... there was still a chance that he survived to see the results. "I'll allow Kojuro in now."

* * *

Using the conquered fortress as place to rest until the wounded were well enough to travel seemed sensible and logical. It hadn't been damaged enough to be rendered useless and it was better than having everyone camping outside.

Their plan had been tailored to allow an almost effortless sorting and organizing of the aftermath. It relied on the previous experience and there really was no reason to change the method even if the objectives had been in small scale. Ignoring of course the oversized number of volunteers.

Yet to have failed to take into account the nature of that target, to allow that a moment of distraction in victory brought harm to Yumi. Kojuro's hands clenched into fists as the thought once more sneaked into his mind. They relaxed as he glanced down at her sleeping form. A mild fever was running through her body, burning away the poison. Saki hadn't seemed too concerned as he stormed out of the inner sanctum carrying an unconscious woman. That had gone a long way to quiet his mind.

Yumi needed rest and she needed to be able to see the changes. From the rage she had displayed there was a lot that needed to be done before she was ready to move on, to leave her family's lands and all the strife of those years of conflict behind.


	34. Chapter 34

Yumi stared at the broken remnants of what had once been her home. The memories were still there, good and bad along with the bodies. For her that was where it had started. And even though it had meant so much it was a place they had avoided throughout the first few months after the attacks. Sojiro had kept guards around the ruins, suspicious of any survivor privy to the truth. He had realized that some knew after they had gathered and began their campaign but apparently had not made the connection.

The nagamaki in her arms felt heavy, heavier than it had ever been, even when she had first started to wield it and shouldering the responsibility. Maybe it was the crests, maybe it was its fulfilled purpose. Maybe her arms were simply tired. Her legs felt wobbly, still in the grip of the remnants of poison.

Riding had taken quite a bit of effort and focus.

The task had to be reported.

Fulfilled, done, over...

It was always so quiet there. After all that had happened it was quiet.

Staring at the overgrown shapes under the sunlight Yumi sighed, slumping on the rock where she sat, weapon resting against her shoulder, still in her grip.

Was it any easier to speak with them when they were alive?

Sometimes it was very hard to remember anything before...

"The traitor is dead." Yumi allowed her voice to be heard. "So are a lot of people that were loyal to you, to us, to grandfather." Sighing she stood, balancing with the help of the weapon. "It took so long... but there were so many times when we thought it would never happen..." that brought a bitter smile to her lips. "It took our enemy making a mistake for a breakthrough... I..." Yumi hesitated, placing the nagamki on the ground, approaching her horse to grab a few tools to dig. "Don't think I will be returning."

"Relinquishing the sword?" Kojuro spoke up, stopping his horse, watching as she placed the family's weapon into the hole. He seemed neither angry nor surprised that she had left the fortress without warning.

"This one yes. It was a symbol of a task that is now behind me." Shivering, blade buried with the past Yumi stepped back. She had brought some offerings too. The first time she could leave anything in plain sight without fear of being exposed.

Kojuro dismounted calmly, understanding, arms reaching around Yumi, offering what he could. Startled at first she stiffened, looking back, eyes wide and doubtful before relaxing, letting herself fall against him before turning, returning the gesture. Years of hiding all broke through in a dry sob as the kindness of the warm embrace tore through the defences that she had needed to set.

Grief, un-mourned losses, the tangled pain of locked away memories came through in tears, her hands gripping his coat, her tall frame shrinking into Kojuro's protection, letting it flow through, letting it be remembered.

What was due to the dead...

Sometimes it was strange to think the deceased could want anything.

Others it was simply too easy to see that.

If anything still bound any of the souls of those that had perished in that household was the woman in his arms. She had done her part. In the promise he whispered to the broken stone and wood he knew tried to settle the lingering unease. Her family would want to see her happy, protected. And that he could and would do.


	35. Chapter 35

A calm void, empty of feelings. Negative ones more than others. It felt like floating, calm, quiet, warm. Yumi took a deep breath, sinking into the warm water of the bath, eyes closing slowly. The temperature seeped into her bones, soothingly, the tensions leaving her frame. Sleepiness was starting to move in through the exhaustion the poison had left. Recovery steady even with the added toll of travelling before being pronounced ready to do so.

Kojuro had made her promise to rest after going to Tadao's side. The house where he was being held was not far from the ruins and she had already strained herself that far. A bit more would not be too much, especially in his company to support any problem that could arise. It had belonged to a long dead ally, claimed as the suspicion ran rampart and Sojiro made sure only his supporters had the status needed.

Surely the haste would get them scolded.

Yumi had seen Tadao sick, wounded, concerned and grieving. It had been years together in a close-knit group that survived because of that proximity. She had rarely seen him so small, pale, worn out. Although she was also sure that that was the look she sported after the ride. Pain had caught up to her shortly after arrival, barely giving her the time to visit the old warrior.. Her dizzy head and wobbly legs were only pushed through sheer stubbornness to her purpose. And after she had simply collapsed and been aided to the bath.

In that soothing ambience her head was clearing, sorting through the hazy whispers of the previous days.

The bandits, outlaws through their purpose, were being disbanded slowly and steadily. The first to leave were those whose families had stayed behind, hidden away from Sojiro's reach. Soldiers returned to their garrisons, eager to serve someone worthy in view of the world. Women that had learned to fight, followed her example had asked to remain with her, following their lady wherever fate took her.

Rieko was finally able to return to her temple along with the miko that had served as a secretive, shinobi-like information gathering net. Although she had not seen them yet there had been a few letters of gratitude from the women and their leader. Not even those that served gods had escaped the strangling control in the province. If augurs spoke they had better say flattering things about the ruler.

Goro seemed to have taking a liking to Kojuro after clearing the air about his identity. Pledging his allegiance to the One-Eyed Dragon he had joined the people from Oshu, claiming that he should not leave Yumi either. While her ties to the name and inherence were willingly severed she was still part of the household his family had been bound to. While true of Ippei as well the other commander of her band had decided to stay behind and make sure the province would not fall prey to any other man of mad ambition.

"You are meant to rest." Kojuro walked in, smiling slightly as he caught sight of the small wrinkle of focus between her eyebrows, touching it, smoothing it out, sitting by her side, unabashed. Yumi looked up, eyes opening slowly, sluggishly. "Come now."

"I know." Yumi mumbled. It was a promise, after all. She reached out, letting Kojuro pluck her from the water and into a towel. "But it's the first time in days that my head feels clear enough…"

"Don't burden yourself yet." Gently he aided her through the task of drying, supporting her frame as she kept some claim to independence. "There will be time upon our return."

"By then I suspect those you lead will be far more interested in planning our wedding." Mustering her strength to speak through a yawn Yumi leaned against him after loosely tying the undershirt.

"Perhaps." Kojuro's lips twitched slightly, amused by her sleepy quip, picking her up. In his arms she curled, allowing herself to be carried to the room.

Drying her hair was a bit of a tricky task due to the noodle neck of a sleepy woman. She fell back against him several times throughout, sighing and nuzzling with closed eyes, toeing the edge of consciousness. So he allowed her to fall into the futon, adjusting the covers, watching for any signs that he should

Despite the exhaustion the fever had not returned. Caressing her hair away from her face Kojuro smiled and settled.


	36. Chapter 36

_And then what?_

The nagging doubt about the wide open, aimless future haunted Yumi as they made their way back to Oshu weeks later. Around she could see healing and prospects.

People who would take the promise of prosperity and the guarantee of peace. A path where those they found seemed happy, rebuilding, fed and safe.

A trip without secrecy, hurry or worry, where they had no need to scurry and hold their head low out of fear of persecution and recognition. No one was giving chase. There was no distrust, no need to camp secreted away.

Tadao had recovered although not completely. The old general had lost the use of his right arm but in typical fashion he still proclaimed himself able to serve. He had accompanied her with Goro and her warrior women, the last remnants of a cause and a name she had abandoned.

The question lingered, unvoiced, unanswered. She didn't feel like she had the right to do so, not when people still looked at her for leadership and she had nothing… Maybe it was not nothing. She had freedom now, someone she loved and could be with without fear of straying from her purpose. That freedom after driven years was proven hard to balance.

Kojuro seemed to understand her indecision. Knowing what he had done with the One-Eyed Dragon likely they had spent some time with the same doubts even if they stemmed from a prospect too great to achieve and a change in strategy. He offered quiet support but had not asked, giving her the time to sort through it herself.

It could feel lonely. Yet any question about it also could feel weighty, pressuring.

Oshu, the country, was peaceful. There was much to do but there always was a lot to be done and yet nothing seemed to match the skills she had had to cultivate. Other than taking care of Kasuya maybe. The child could make hardener warrior cry in fear of babysitting.

Yumi wandered around the household, the city, the mountains, riding, trying to see what she could do, enjoy. She had bought a koto. Her fingers were slow and hesitant on the strings, the sounds familiar, bringing echoes of her teachers, of her mother. She remembered songs, the strings to pluck but what once had been a skill she had proudly displayed was rusty. Torn between enjoyment and memories she had tried to play, stopping when she made a mistake, staring at the instrument, pained.

Saki was perhaps the easiest one to talk to those days. More so than Kojuro perhaps. Her purpose had been that of a weapon once. No distractions. Nothing but the mission. The shinobi had found her playing, smiling slightly and suggesting that she could give a song as a gift at the incoming wedding, mentioning that she was looking like she was enjoying playing even soaked in tears.

Those had come as a surprise. They weren't painful. Just… memories.

 _I know it feels like you are lost without a path to follow. But trust yourself._ Saki had said it softly, sitting nearby, reaching out, plucking a string. She didn't know how to play. Not one of her missions had ever called her to learn the skill to dissimulate her purpose.

Tadao joined them, attracted by the sound, maybe even recognizing the old song. He had sat with them, arm tucked in a sling, in the sleeve, against his body, eyes closing, a smile spreading as the song steadied, as Yumi's fingers remembered.

Rediscovering things she liked helped indeed… The ones that had followed were doing the same. Exploring, growing, trying to find new roots and new purposes.

* * *

The summons came a month later as she returned from the vegetable garden Kojuro kept. He looked so very tender amidst the greenery that it could hard to see the man she had fought with and along. But the expression was not strange. She had caught him looking at her like that too.

Yumi found she liked that too. Planting. Seeing things grow. Playing in the dirt like she had never been allowed to as a child and felt envious of her brothers.

It was not the casual invitation Date Masamune sometimes extended for sake, or a talk or games.

Kojuro seemed to know what that was about but he was keeping quiet and Yumi would not press. She had learned to leave some secrets be.

The One-Eyed Dragon met them in the meeting room, sitting as formally as he could. It has hard to tell how serious he was. There seemed to be an air of amusement to him most of the times. As hard as telling if Saki was feeling anything at all. Sometimes the woman's expression was so close to being a serene painting that Yumi doubted she was alive.

Sitting and bowing as she had been taught as a child came out as stilted and ungracefully has her attempt to return to the koto. But not one of them minded.

The Right Eye of the Dragon has not arrived yet. That created a slight flutter of nervousness.

"Yumi, you and those you brought with you have skills that could serve the Land of the Rising Sun." The One-Eyed Dragon started, straightening, staring at her. "So we have a proposal. Kojuro."

Kojuro walked in, carrying a parcel wrapped in blue silk. It was not hard to guess what it was simply from the shape. He placed it down in front of her, taking a place by her side, unwrapping a newly forged nagamaki. There were no crests in the weapon. Nothing but a beautifully made blade, decorated in blue and gold. While those were Oshu's colours they were also non-indicative of any affiliation. Transfixed she reached out, touching the hilt, fingers following it lines, curling around it. It… fit her hand a bit better. It was actually made for her. No other meaning. Just her weapon. Hers…

"Bandits can always be a problem on the roads. Or on towns when disasters push people harder than they should be strained." Date continued. "The Saica faction polices the country for us but they are not enough and they have exchanged a great part of their former mercenary mobility for a better planed grid of operations. Each province has its own forces but…" Shrugging Date turned to Kojuro, gesturing him to continue.

"Masamune-Sama is asking you and those that followed you along with anyone you feel you should train to hunt down the criminals that others cannot take or find." Kojuro watched as she focused on the words, finding them matching her restlessness, the need to do something more. Smiling her took her hand, covering the fingers that were still holding his gift. "For as long as you wish to undertake this task."

"I… Date Masamune-sama… I can proudly do so." Yumi agreed, finding the new purpose in the country. Not an absolute obligation…

"Of course this does not happen until after you two are married in the next week and a couple of months to set up the whole operation." Masamune mentioned, leaving. Saki smiled slightly, standing to follow her husband, glancing back at the startled expression of the couple. Both were blushing now that the date was so explicitly decided. But they did scoot closer. As Masamune she felt no need to tell them they had already gone behind their back and prepared the sturdier horses, the weapons, the supplies, the equipment and all that a mobile strike unit would need.


	37. Chapter 37

Calamity always brought out the worse in people and that typhoon season was no different.

Bandit hunting took place only when the forces that were stationed on the areas affected could no longer keep up with the criminals. Or when dispatching reinforcements would weaken other areas.

It happened less than one would expect but it suited Yumi just fine.

A hunt every so often to keep her skills sharp and the restlessness away was more than enough.

It was not like simply aiding with the running of the country along with her husband and the One-Eyed Dragon was not challenging or fulfilling but sometimes it was just too much paperwork to cover.

Years of training and fighting created a humming agitation in her when performing those tasks.

It seemed to be a shared sentiment amidst the ones that had fought in the wars.

Within a few month there was to be a big fight -festival to see if plain competition was enough to dissipate that energy. It was all planned already. So she felt the need to hurry along and return home.

Kojuro was busy with the preparations and the fields. He certainly could use the help.

The fact that she missed him was also part of the desire to be done with the current task.

It had been a year since the task had been bestowed upon her. So far, since their wedding, they had only been apart for a handful of months. She had accompanied him on diplomatic missions. A few times he was available to join her group on the hunt.

Yumi sighed, tired, stretching as she walked into the shinobi hidden house.

The horses were Rina's responsibility that day.

Through Saki they had been given approval to use the ones that could hold Yumi's group of twenty strong. They were more comfortable than constantly camping and finding suitable spots to hide. After years on the run she could see the difference easily. So could the people she had brought with her. And they enjoyed it.

"Take this time to rest." She gave orders with every step that took her to the back of the house, ending with the permission to take it easy for a while, glancing around.

Habit and the nature of the safe house made sure most tasks were already tended or being seen to.

It was not the time for bathing and settling in though.

Just a rest, just a breather.

Let the bandits think they had lost track of them for the night.

False sense of security, element of surprise.

It would make a raid easier in a few hours.

"Warn me when whoever is chosen for scouting leaves to switch with Nodoka." Receiving an affirmative from her people she turned and stepped into the small private room that usually was given to her unless someone was seriously injured, closing the screen quietly, letting her shoulders relax.

The nagamaki was placed against a wall as Yumi stretched her arms, taking off the hood she had begun to wear once again.

The wedding had been a too big of an affair.

Too many people had shown up, curious or just actually glad for the Right Eye of the Dragon. In the well-wishing her face and especially her height had not gone unnoticed. When talking to Saki about her concerns, about going hunting undercover, the shinobi had agreed with her words, telling a similar tale. But then she chuckled, telling her if «Ryoma» could go unrecognized so could anyone. Even her one-eyed husband if he took off the eyepatch, trading it for a bandage and stopped wearing blue, black and gold. And proceeded to swear her into silence as Kojuro was not to know they snuck out on occasion.

The hood had worked once out of fear.

Why not make it work once more out of precaution.

Sitting down on the opened futon she noticed the neatly stacked pile of letters left by someone in the communication network by its top, reaching out, starting to catch up with the news, penning quick answers to be taken. Better to do it now than after the fight.

Capturing thugs was sometimes more complicated than simply clearing the field.

The strain of holding back was quite hard on the body.

More focus, more precision, more energy, more forethought.

"Yumi?" Goro called, opening the screen slightly.

Startled she looked up, placing the brush down, staining paper and fabric.

Had time gotten away from her again?

Sometimes work seemed to have that effect.

"Yes… Am I late?" Standing she reached for the hood, fumbling to get ready. "I'll prepare to move out at once…" Putting her mind into the upcoming raid Yumi turned.

"No." Goro chuckled. "Ryoma is here."

"Ryoma?" Yumi murmured, standing still, eyes wide, frozen in surprise.

The screen opened fully, her second in command stepping aside to let her see.

Scruffy-looking and dishevel the ronin she had once thought a threat stood there, smiling meekly, awkward, slightly, under the shadow of his hair and beard, stepping into the room, confident despite the shyness crossing his obscured features, sure of his welcome.

Yumi barely waited for the screen to be closed by an amused Goro to throw her arms around Kojuro, stepping closer with a content whimper, pressing herself against him, eyes closing, holding his face between bare, ink-stained palms.

The kiss was filled with longing, want and warmth, with their time apart, with the bond that had grown through the fight, returned fiercely, his arms keeping her close, as if any room between them was a threat.

It felt like returning home.

"I missed you." Kojuro murmured, caressing her cheek when they allowed some space to breathe. His serious look was back as he stared at her, tracing the lines of her face, holding her still, eyes as clear and focused as they were in battle. Letting go, simply loosening a bit, Kojuro's arms settled around Yumi's waist, pulling her even closer, warmth seeping through his clothes, through her light armour.

"So did I." Leaning into the embrace Yumi closed her eyes, allowing her head to fall on his shoulder, cradled by a palm that followed a gentle, slow path up her back, petting her hair, sneaking the pins away to let the sun-lightened brown tresses fall around her face, brushing his chin and shoulder. Sighing comfortably Yumi tugged until they were sitting, still embracing. "Have you come to join the raid?"

"Yes." His hands had settled heavily, as if he was struggling, keeping from doing more.

Smiling, challenged, Yumi nuzzled his neck, nipping, dragging her lips over the skin, down to the hollow of his throat, brushing slowly, downwards, hands easing away the fabric, sneaking under the cloth.

It had been months now, hadn't it… she caught the low, growled groan and felt his touch grow loose for a second before returning, steeled, still unwilling to relent.

The job came first but they had a moment to spare. And she was sure it was enough.

"Good." Breaking through his resolve was a challenge Yumi had come to enjoy as much as sparring and working together. It was a way to reach the man under all the duty, training and restraint. It was getting easier with time, to be calm, unafraid, open, able to find ways to make him feel just as at ease. She was coming close to competing with his plants when it came to capturing his attention to the point of distraction.

A kimono, even one made of heavy fabric, was easily pushed off his shoulders.

Yumi's trailing caresses did so along with the movement, the sweep of her lips along the line that descended from his throat, down his chest, tongue lapping at sensitive points, gently, a warm, moist moment after a kiss, a trick that dragged a pleasured whisper out of her husband.

The marks Yumi had left on him when they parted were fading. The red scratches on his back… her nails traced the remnants, teasing his memory of that night. What had left on her had faded too.

Turnabouts was fair game. His mouth remembered exactly where he had bit down, his hands made sure to remind her where they had touched.

Convinced, used to the clasps and ties of armour, Kojuro was able to deftly breach through the layers, fastening a kiss to her bared skin. That hot demanding kiss returned to her lips as his hands continued, made short work of the leather metal and fabric layers, tossing it aside, his touch gentling as he caressed her skin, remembering the texture, the warmth. Yumi made little sounds of pleasure as he was allowed to explore.

Biting on her lower lip Yumi stopped him, gripping Kojuro's wrists with both hands.

Understanding the signal he did as asked, stilling, watching, waiting.

After a soft squeeze Yumi released his wrist, fingertips caressing gently, pulling slightly away, watching too.

The lamp light flickered.

The shadows away from it were plenty but it was enough to see…

Feeling a smile tug at her lips Yumi scooted closer, caressing his jaw, feeling the beard prickle her palms, down his necks, finding the already parted edges of the kimono, pulling it further down, away, letting the fabric pool at his waist. Returning the caress, now unimpeded, she disposed of the articles of cloth until Kojuro was bared before her.

Prowling she pounced, pinning him against the futon, straddling Kojuro, hands splayed on the firm surface of his chest, moving slowly down his stomach. Her was already hard, the chains of self-restraint broken.

Pleased Yumi teased her lips long his thigh, stopping just short of his hip, her hand mirroring an opposite path on the other side.

His voice grew louder as Yumi continued the upwards path, tending to his body, feeling the heat beneath her palms, pouring, pooling, gathering within her as well, slowly building.

Teasing was soon forgotten as their lips came together, hungry, hot. Roaming hands shared their need as bodies grew closer, desire mounted and longing refused to remain unsated.

* * *

Modesty had a place but that place was not on the road.

As a group they knew so.

And as Kojuro and Yumi were married there really was no need to hide or feel any sort of bashfulness over reuniting.

Even if Kojuro usually felt a bit reticent over touching her in public although that seemed to stem from Masamune-sama's need to comment in a sort of pay back for something, somehow.

Rest was cut short by the arrival of Nodoka. Whoever had traded with her had left without warning so she or he would not disturb. Even if those had not been Yumi's orders she didn't mind the oversight, deliberate as it had been.

There was more than a type of bandits. Some were driven by need. Others were driven by greed.

Their orders were always to capture them to face justice in accordance to their crimes.

The camps of each differed and scouting had shown that there were no women, elderly or children taking refuge with those men. No truly permanent structures. No small patches of vegetables already being grown. No new growing community even if one that was settling on the edges of the law and keeping itself alive though the theft of basics.

The plan had been made and then reviewed and adapted when they joined the group, armed, armoured and determined to run free and fight.

The targets they chased that day clearly only sought riches instead of basic supplies. Their camp was mobile and defended. They carried wooden spikes with them to bury on the ground to stop charging horses. They had patrols and a war-camp-like structure, built around the leader and the loot. The people Nodoka had seen had been lightly armoured and armed. Simple weapons, little metal. But there was also training showing through their movements. Whoever had started the group toughened those thugs with some basics.

* * *

The horses and a few riders were used as a distraction. The mounted warriors hunted the scouts at the edge of camp. The rider-less horses ran around in a trained pattern, listening for the calls of their masters. It made the threat and the idea of confinement much more real to those men. Could even intimidate some into giving up.

Yumi used only six people to keep the ring tight and catch anyone attempting to flee as the main group raided the camp.

Chasing runaways was more perilous and more time-consuming than an attack, especially if they had had the forethought of trapping the area.

Every strategy should be used to make sure they wasted no resources.

So far they behaved as expected.

Yumi's hunters surged from all directions, the attack fast and straightforward, aiming for the leader, scattering the others in their wake.

More often than not eliminating the top man ensured a swift victory.

With no warning from the ambling sentinels the camp was caught off-guard, fully convinced their chasers had abandoned pursuit for the night. They hadn't bothered with having their own scouts doubling back to check for dangers. Good.

On foot it was also easier to keep their blades from leaving lasting harm.

Circling, spinning, sweeping the incoming thugs Yumi made her way to her target, scanning the battlefield, deciding where to move and who to support, keeping her voice quiet, knowing everyone would respond to the situation to the best of their ability with little need to rely on her guidance.

Who led was plainly obvious when he was the one whose shouts were swiftly answered.

Yumi frowned, stopping as the lights flared to life, ignited by her group to increase the confusion and visibility.

The leader...

The nagamaki's fast strike downwards took out another adversary, leaving the man unconscious on the ground, the curving sway of the forward motion carrying her away from the obstacle his body had become.

She could not remember his name but she remembered his face. He had been part of the trusted council of that province's Lord. They had met the man less than three months ago. It seemed that all his vocal defence of his Lord had been nothing more than a smoke screen for the illicit actions in the making.

A whistle and a gesture made her people move, the ones that had already dealt with the enemies that had swarmed, closing in around the main threat.

Outnumbered he took a step back, appraising the field, looking for a breach, for a path to flee.

A sneak attack against Masato brought the thug the chance he needed. While Eimi fended off the pair of interlopers to aid her companion he simply ran past her.

It was only one man and the one they absolutely could not allow to go free.

The shrill whistle warned the group to the goings on.

Horses whinnied in the distance as the scouts of the north side moved in to try to cut the man's path.

Yumi dashed, sheathing the nagamaki, giving chase, relying on the speed and stamina the road had built, following.

Kojuro downed his share of bandits and turned, finding the chase, gritting his teeth, doing the same, calling out. She looked over her shoulder, golden eyes gleaming, thrilled, veering off target, letting him look like the main threat the traitor turned bandit had to worry about.

* * *

The One-Eyed Dragon had a slew of tricky, underhanded units under his control. That was no news. It was one of the ways the war had been won. But their use in daily life was more whispered than outright acknowledged. To think one of those hunting parties had come for him. He had believed his thieving was under wraps, that few outside knew, that few inside would even dare to speak of it. Yet there they were.

If he could outrun them, evade the horses maybe there was a way to restart. He had enough in his arms to make it far, to keep in luxury for a while. He was strong enough to take more on the way. Travelers were easy and unprepared prey.

There was only one chasing him now.

Shouldn't be too hard to kill if he could reach the road.

The strike of a sheathed blade against his chest sent the man reeling down into the ground. The blunt tip of the sheath dug down on his stomach, further disorienting him before a booted foot and the weapon pinned his arms in place.

The tall figure under the hood whistled coarsely.

A horse approached.

The chaser nodded and crouched, tying him down while dazed.

* * *

In-between peace and hunting, aiding the One-eyed Dragon, growing, creating and exploring proved peace could be and often was as challenging as war. Or covert guerrilla.

A future Yumi had never imagined stretched before her.

Truth be told she had barely envisioned survival back then.

"I brought you tea." Kojuro called towards the gardens where she practiced, placing the tray down on the floorboards of the engawa, sitting down, waiting for her.

Yumi smiled slightly, finishing the form, sheathing the nagamaki, walking towards her husband, sitting down next to him, looking around, making sure no one was around before moving closer, shoulder to shoulder.

"Thank you." She murmured, taking the cup, sipping carefully, enjoying the moment, hopeful.

There was peace.

There was a future.

* * *

 _[It took long to finish, longer than usual, between lost files and the start of my doctorate and getting a part-time job, but here it is. Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.]_


End file.
